I had a lot to do yesterday! I mean, trust me, I was busy!
Saturdays are so busy for me! Actually, every day is busy! I am such a busy person and I am always doing something because I am just that busy!
Saturday I was supposed to babysit for my friend, plan our meals for the week, go grocery shopping, write all my blog posts for the week, clean out my closet, clean out the fridge, do the laundry, answer blog emails, find blogs to sponsor for March, grade students' papers, return my books to the library, and go to the gym. It was going to be a busy day!
I really am so busy, guys! Trust me on this one!
But then. I just didn't want to be busy. I didn't want to do any of that stuff. I was so tired of being busy.
Sometimes I feel like I am riding this endless wave of "busy" and I find so much to fill my time with and I never have a second to myself to think or ponder or relax or just be. Our society has almost made it a badge of honor to be busy. When people ask me how I've been or what I'm up to or how life is treating me, I invariably reply, "I am really good, just sooooooo busy!" As if the busy-ness gives my life more purpose, gives me more value as a person. As if that person would look down on me if I weren't busy.
Saturday morning when I woke up I didn't feel like doing any of the things I was supposed to do that day. Something hit me and I thought, "Screw this. I'm not going to be busy today." So I fell back asleep and cuddled up to Greg for an extra hour. My friend brought her baby (whose name is also Bonnie, but will furthermore be known as baby Bonnie) over for me to watch and while the babe napped I curled up next to the fire and read. I meandered upstairs and talked to my mom for awhile, instead of rushing in with hellos and out with goodbyes.
When baby Bonnie woke up she sat in my lap doing absolutely nothing for a long time. I took my cue from here and did absolutely nothing too. We just sat there, two Bonnies in a rocking chair, thinking about life. It was one of those tender, almost sacred moments where life seems so simple and pure. Baby Bonnie didn't cry or fuss or even move, she just sat there silently on my lap as if all was right in the world.
I made some crepes for breakfast and played with baby Bonnie on the floor, and I didn't think about my inbox full of emails waiting for me.
After baby Bonnie was gone I took a long shower and then decided to get back into bed. I laid there and read while Hubs made me a sandwich (role reversal! Winning!) and brought it to me in bed.
About 2:00, Hubs and I went downtown where the local massage school was offering two for one massages. We spoiled ourselves and I let someone rub my back and legs until I was convinced there is no longer evil in this world. Then we got milkshakes at Iceberg and took our time cruising on home, nothing on our minds, no stresses, no cares, no time constraints.
We came home and cuddled and I read and napped and then woke up and read some more. I worked on a puzzle. I let myself be absolutely, completely lazy. I didn't make myself feel guilty for not grading those papers, for not buying those groceries, for not going to the gym. I left my phone in my purse and didn't take it out all afternoon or night. No emails, no twitter, no instagram. Just my book and my bed.
Finally, about 7:00 I pulled myself out of bed and made some dinner. Then I sat on the couch and watched the Jazz lose horribly and I didn't even care a bit. I worked on the puzzle some more and then watched an episode of Downton Abby in which I could not stay awake for the life of me, drifting off to sleep for the night.
In short. Yesterday I did absolutely nothing.
And it was beautiful.
I'm trying so hard to slow down, to notice the small things around me, to drink in the beauty of the day. But it is so hard. Somehow my life has become overrun with so much busy-ness and I have to fight hard to get the simplicity back. To get back those hours of nothing. To get back the me time, the relaxing in the tub, the guiltless Sunday afternoon naps that quite frankly, I deserve. That we all deserve.
And then I wonder. Why do I try so hard to be busy? Why do I wear that title with pride? Is that something that has been ingrained in our culture- that "busy" translates to "successful" or "happy"?
What are your thoughts on being "busy." Is it possible to not be so freaking busy but still be productive and successful? For those of you who have kids, I imagine it's much worse. Do you limit the outside school activities they can do for the sake of saving your own sanity? What are you doing to un-busy your life? Do tell. Do tell.
Now, if you don't mind, I'm hopping into the tub to read some more. Please don't bother me.