Lists, don’t we hate lists? I mean I like them. They create order. They allow for a plan to get things done so we aren’t left in a bind later. I love them on one hand but on the other, they bring pressure and frenzy. And that is what I am trying to power through now. There are so many things crying out to get done, therefore the list is growing instead of dwindling. I feel frazzled and being frazzled is not on my list.
Today is the day before we go on a family trip and each time I sit and write I remember something else that should be done. I leave my writing “perch” and go upstairs and pack a few more items and while doing that I think, “maybe I should pack this.” Or, I forgot to call this person. And then I see my essential oils and wonder what if someone has trouble breathing maybe I should pack this too. Then I remember I originally was sitting on the south side of the house (hoping to catch a few seconds of sunlight) writing this essay. The essay that I definitely don’t want to do with thirteen family members on a beach, so I trod back to my writing chair and remember a prescription that needs refilling.
The phrase, “now what?” brings pressure and more diversions than I’d like to admit. It creates chaos because it requires a list and the more items on a list the more pressure I feel. It becomes an endless cycle of demands, interrupted focus and anxiety. In fact, I cannot imagine a scenario where “now what” brings anything but dread.
“Now what”, after a family member dies brings pressure of the burial, the funeral, the process of the will, and all the final bills paid. Where is the moment to grieve when everything about “now what” intrudes?
When a grandchild is born and first visit draws to an end, “now what” brings up how to get all the debris of the hospital room delivered to the parents’ home while tending to the older siblings in the exhaustion and mania of a new baby.
When long awaited guests depart from your home and your heart aches feeling their absence “now what” implies washing sheets, loading the dishwasher and cleaning the house to get things in order to annul the pain.
When a vacation ends and you make your way to the long-term parking lot and return to a cold house and look at the pile of bills to be paid, “now what” makes the ending of a long awaited trip even more difficult.
I actually hate the phrase “now what”. I didn’t know it until I was caught in this bind of preparing to leave and writing about “now what”. I am better off without it. I am better off to live without thinking of the next thing because I am fearful that the next thing will always lead to another thing that I won’t sufficiently accomplish. And if I do accomplish it with flying colors…there will always be another “now what” that takes me to the slavery of doing and not being.
So, “now what?” I need to confess that I am ambivalent about these hours that are slipping by. More packing and other chores are getting done but the joy…the joy in being and looking out the window, of eating homemade mushroom soup, and watching the birds eat the madrona tree berries are all no longer present as I focus on “now what.” I want more joy. More delight. More curiosity. More love. Less pressure. Less fear. Less dread.
The longer I thought of the bind of “now what” it dawned on me that my conundrum might be as simple as switching the words to: “What now?” What if I freed myself from the ‘what’ and relinquished myself to the ‘now?’
What might happen if I simply surrender to living into the moment?
I don’t question I am strange but that simple transposition let me drop my shoulders and take in the deepest breath of this day.
I will ponder the miracle of breath, life, home, possessions and my beloved husband who loves me and cares for me and his children and grandchildren. I will help him put on the trailer cover that blew off last night in the wind and I will then come back in and look around and say, “what now” … with a smile and an added word, “What now, Jesus?” May he guide me to take in the breath of the ‘now’ before I set my hands to the labor of the ‘what’.
Becky Allender lives on Bainbridge Island with her loving, wild husband of almost 40 years. A mother and grandmother, she is quite fond of sunshine, yoga, Hawaiian quilting and creating 17th Century reproduction samplers. A community of praying women, loving Jesus, and the art of gratitude fill her life with goodness. She wonders what she got herself into with Red Tent Living! bs
I love this – I was just thinking and feeling all of this yesterday. What Now? Breathe. Be. Pray. Have a great vacation!
You said it better than me! Breathe, Be, Pray!!! yes. It is good to know that it is not just me that feels pressure to hurry and do. Thank you, Claudia, for your comment.
I love playing with words and turning things around to get a different perspective. Thanks for this.
I have not played with words often. I think it is a good new thing to do! Thank you, Madeline.
Love it…”now what” discards now and the present, negates what just was or maybe the list you completed, leaves no room for celebration or excitement….I love what now. What is in this moment to cherish… Joan
Ahhh…yes….”What is n this moment to cherish?”!!! Thank you Joan!!
Refreshing wisdom, Becky. Thank you for the lovely invitation to ” take in the breath of the ‘now’ before I set my hands to the labor of the ‘what'”.
Dear Kelsi, thank you for your kindness. I love how you phrased it….”to ”take in the breath of the ‘now’ before I set my hands to the labor of the ‘what’”.
Brilliant.
Becky, I somehow knew by the title this post would be from you! I love the transposition to What now? I have spent so many years feeling as if life is a series of tests I’m doomed to fail – very much a “what now” position. I think there is so much more hope and anticipation (rather than dread) in “now what?” Thank you!
ok, so never leave a blog comment when you’re in a hurry at work! I got that all twisted around but I think you know what I meant!
Yep…I completely understand and totally got what you meant!!!
Tamara….It makes me smile that you knew that it was me!
Becky, I love how your writing takes us in. I felt right there with you in the packing, the pressure, the frenzy and how every item in your house represented something more to do (even the essential oils ☺). Unfortunately, this sounds all too familiar as I reflect on my week between Christmas and New Years and the many “lists” that I made and the way I missed out on the “now.” Thank you for your holy transposition that reminds me to breathe and notice….it casts a vision for a much more curious, present, surrendered and grounded entrance into 2018.
Oh, thank you Rachel! Yes…we miss the “now” the sky, the trees, the birds, the smells, the tastes…. Thank you for spurring me on to love and good deeds and to stop and notice and feel and see the goodness in the land of the living. (Which, as a senior citizen, allows me to see how long I have lived and how short the living is becoming!.)
When the grandchild is born… When long awaited guests depart… When a vacation ends… being free and relinquishing ourselves to the now… Yes! My heart longs for the gift of presence in every season of this life. Thank you for writing, for leading, for loving! Well done!
Thank you Renee. You have weathered a hard year… I am grateful that you are living well in this season…Thank you for taking the time to reply.
I am so with you in how much angst ‘now what’ brings in me. Your simple but profound turn to consider instead ‘what now’ feels completely different. Anything that helps shift from the relentless lists of all that isn’t done to being present in this moment, now, is worth paying attention to in my mind. Thinking of you as you savor moments with your sweet family.
Thank you Janet! Lists and tasks sometimes seem to not end. May we learn how to draw boundaries and enjoy our lives in new ways…