I pride myself on trying to be in tune. I really try to plan a rough sketch of my day.. doing the essentials and then letting the other stuff fall into place guided by how I feel in the moment. I think of it as listening to the Spirit. Sometimes I get so many ideas in my head of things to do. It is like a free flow of really awesome stuff.. Service ideas for my family, my kids and for others. People I need to call and text. Projects to start...I really, really try to listen to the ones that hit me most urgently. My problem is always in the execution of my response to those promptings. I am a major slug. My body doesn't possess the ability to do things at the rapid pace my mind does.
So I have to be really patient with myself. Generally a good idea will come to fruition, but maybe not for a few weeks or months.
I FINALLY got Amanda's application to be an exchange student for next summer completed (with her assistance of course). But she can't drive to the post office, or print things out on her own... So these things require my leg work. And it took me WEEKS! Today I met my best friend in the post office. She had a mound of packages and boxes in her arms. I wish that I could get things done like she does. She is such a worker. She is so organized. She just is a doer.
I am not a doer. I am a dreamer, a thinker and a list maker. Sometimes I get things done. And then I feel so accomplished. But more often than not, I am perpetually half way through something.
Tonight I came home from work and made a casserole for a family. Drawing from my limited repertoire of foods that turn out I decided to make tater tot casserole. I browned the meat and added the ingredients. I had bought ice cream to go with the casserole. I should have made a salad and had some rolls because this family has several kids... but I didn't. I just made a very large casserole. The tots were actually cooked which sometimes doesn't happen and a beautiful layer of cheese was melted on top. I placed the casserole on the seat of my truck. I made sure it was carefully anchored. I drove to the family's house. I got out of the car, holding the casserole in both of my hands. I walked towards the home. Almost in slow motion my foot snagged on the uneven cement of the sidewalk and I hit the ground. I toppled over landing on my chest still holding the casserole outstretched. The casserole skidded like a rock being skipped across a lake and came to rest completely undamaged a few feet from me. I don't think I yelled any expletives, I just popped up and retrieved the casserole. I then knocked on the door, delivered the casserole and drove home.
Kris examined my sore hand and pronounced it a bruise. Then I sat on the couch for a long, long time.
It is somewhat of a miracle that casserole didn't shatter. I can just imagine the mess of tater tots and veggies and glass on the cement. I am not sure how it happened the way it did. But I feel lucky that it was all good in spite of my clumsiness.
That could sum up my life "it was all good in spite of my clumsiness".
Happy Thanksgiving!
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