Time Well Spent
small good things are happening
Apparently, I cannot function without a calendar. A favorite story my mother used to tell about me is that when I was nine years old and we took a family vacation to the beach, the first thing I did when we got checked in our hotel room was open up my bag, take out my kitty cat calendar, and tape it up to the wall.
I am so weird about having a calendar that I usually can’t even buy them. I make my own. I usually draw a calendar in the front of a sturdy blank journal at the beginning of a new year. Then I section off the rest of the empty pages in categories (Looking Back, Goals, Homeschool, Creative Work, House, Things I Want to Remember, etc.) so that I have a place to put my scattered thoughts throughout the year and I can easily find them in one book.
The first calendar/journal I made this year got a full glass of grapefruit juice spilled all over it. To my great distress, it was not salvageable. I drew another calendar in the beginning of another sketchbook, filled in all the important dates, made some important lists in the goals section, and left it unattended on the kitchen table for an hour. That was a week ago, and I have turned the house upside down looking for it. Vanished.
My family can tell you that this sent me over the edge in a way that (in retrospect) is almost comical.
I have realized that not only do I have to write things down to feel sane, there are some things I need to write in a certain place. This particular journal feels like an extension of my brain, and without it, I feel handicapped. Making plans is an essential part of who I am. And being able to look back and see that something was actually accomplished—a goal met—is vital.
I want a life that is driven by vision and delivers the good work. I want to be productive, to see fruit, to sense that we are moving in the right direction, that I am spending my life in the way that means the most. And so, planning and reflecting are essential practices for me.
I think that becoming a mother has made me cling even more tightly to this way of planning and recording my life. There is so much time in motherhood where it feels like nothing is happening. It is a lot of slow work where the changes are imperceptible unless you are looking back from a distance of weeks/months/years.
It is easy to feel like life is passing by in a series of necessary—but not necessarily meaningful—tasks. To remind myself that important things are actually happening now, I have developed another journaling practice called Time Well Spent. I write the date at the top of the page and list things that I am happy I did with the day. This might be reading a novel, making bread for my family, playing a card came with my kids, reading aloud, planning a garden, reorganizing a room of the house, taking a walk, writing a letter, etc. This is a good way for me to remember that, while I am moving towards longterm dreams and hopes and plans, in the meantime, small good things are happening now.
I’m offering this practice up in case you, like me, tend to have seasons where you feel stuck in all that is not getting done, all the to-dos that still aren’t done. All the goals not yet met. Jotting down daily lists of time well spent helps to realize that a lot of good things are already happening, that I am moving in the direction of vision. It helps brings me back to a place of peace when I feel out of control. It is a practice that grounds me because it is a record of a life well-lived. That’s what I want to keep.
Sending Love,
Mackenzie
(((Thanks to every reader who has made it to the end of this post. Your time and attention are precious, and it is my hope and prayer that you feel the time you spend here is time well spent.
And sincere thanks to every supporter present and past who has made it possible for me to make one day a week a non-negotiable day to soul-search, to pray and write, and share. I consider the time I spend behind this closed door well-spent. And I am incredibly grateful for your support. It changes my life. Thank you!)))