We are currently living without internet and I am kind of enjoying it. Yet, there are evenings [tonight] where I need to find the nearest coffeehouse (currently sitting in a colorful indie coffeehouse in downtown Lexington) and connect so I can do all the updates without killing the data on my phone. First world issues, right?
Living without internet in the country gives me a lot of time to think.
It’s very quiet (I’m hearing bugs I didn’t hear before!). Leaves rustle. My thoughts are loud.
One thing I’ve been thinking about lately is time.
I forget how much time really matters. I forget that our lives are precious. Time passes quickly.
On a personal level, when I manage time well, I feel like myself and shine brighter. And then, when I’m rested and filled with this light, I am able to give more of myself to others. Lately? I’ve been drained, living with a cup half empty, somewhere between dark and light.
You see, I used to spend my mornings before work journaling with a cup of coffee and my afternoons after work meeting up with friends, exploring nature preserves, creating something (a blog post, a letter, photographs, etc.), or resting. My evenings would be packed with small group gatherings, church events, dinners with family, or snuggling up with my dear husband. Occasionally, I’d volunteer somewhere, take a weekend trip, knit a blanket, hoop, or do some other thing that filled my heart. There seemed to be so much time outside of work for me to pursue my interests and passions. Sounds delightful, right? It was. I flourished.
But in the last several months, my light has dimmed a bit. Yes, there have been joyful moments and good things, but the heaviness was weighing on me. Work exhausted me. I didn’t cook as many healthy meals. I was almost always sick. I didn’t explore many places. I didn’t create anything. I didn’t even want to get up and move as much anymore. I was just…. there. Fading. And trying to cling to God but even my faith didn’t feel as strong. I felt distant. My job didn’t satisfy me — and the long hours left me with little to enjoy at home, my husband has been working on second shift (again, the issue of time) for the last two months, the windowless apartment left me very unmotivated, traveling back to Chicago too often took a toll on us, and we spent months stressing out and dealing with our living situation. Nothing life-threatening or too terribly awful, but enough to wear me out and shut me down. Again, sort of first world problems compared to the rest of the planet. But here I am, stuck in my little gray bubble.
There is light at the end of the tunnel. My flame is brightening again. We finally moved out of that apartment (more on that in an upcoming post!), my husband will be back on first shift next week, and I started a new job a month ago that allows me the time and space to flourish. My mornings are calm again. My late afternoons give me time to breathe, dream, and plan. The light is growing brighter.
Yes, there will always be challenges and things that wear me down, but this time I have again? So precious.
I’m grateful for the exhausted months in a gray bubble —
— it helps me understand those who struggle, and makes me appreciate the bright times.
Here’s to discovering the little things in life that bring me joy. To creating again. To being present again. To making choices for change instead of sitting around, lifeless. To this precious time. I almost don’t know what to do with it. This is my one and only life. Time to make it count. Each moment matters.
Hello, light. So good to see you again.