I used to feel frustrated by life’s maintenance. Years later as the mom of two my son lamented on the same. He couldn’t abide days that were “do the regular,” routine days. Mostly he was resisting cleaning his room.
I get it. There’s less adrenaline on those days, less excitement.
But when you have a moment to allow yourself to just practice presence (which occur much more often on “regular days”), and to peel back the curtain to look, the wisdom and holy grace of regular days can knock you off your ass hard.
Regular days are the bread and butter of life. They are the days that make our dinner, pay the bills, kiss our partners, prepare presentations or lesson plans, drive the car, buy the groceries, guide the apprentice, change the diapers, write the email, answer that same question for the 276th time. Regular days are our life.
Let me say that again.
Regular days are our life.
Being a tutor I work with families in their homes. I prefer it this way. I like helping children create good muscle memory of success inside their own homes. There is so much life that happens around those dining room tables while we work. (I always end up tutoring at the family table. My favorite place.)
Parents and siblings flutter in and out. There are always dogs it seems, and the families that find me have some sort of deep soul connection to me that is obviously another sneaky plan of the almighty’s.
It can be overwhelming for me, because I am one to not miss all the signs.
I have a new tutoring friend I started with tonight. She was tentative at first, but we found our groove and I figured out her sweet and gentle ways quickly and she let me see her. She is so smart and wants to share it.
Dogs and parents and siblings and cooking happened while me and my friend did writing and their life and my life mingled for a while. Life was just life.
What family ever had a kid do homework without all that happening? None I know, that’s for certain.
The beauty was so stunning it was technicolor. Family and tables and cooking made me sentimental.
I suppose it’s because that was what my youth was like. There were always kids everywhere and pets and clutter and projects and things to do.
Pause in the middle of your day-because almost all of them are regular, ordinary, spectacular ordinary days. They are your life. They are the place all the messages lie. All of it is such a massive blessing and so obvious. It’s right in front of us every day but we can distract ourselves and make it be a drag.
My friend. An ordinary day is a gift.
Bless all ordinary, regular days.
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