When was it that I started shunning simple pleasures instead of getting things done? I caught myself doing it this morning. I was lackadaisically staring out the window at the hummingbirds zooming in and out of view as they visited our feeder. I was watching their bodies move, beaks dip in the feeder hole and straighten back up, repeat a few times, and dart off. I realized I was just standing there, and my first thought was that I should be doing something useful. I have things I’d like to accomplish, and they wouldn’t get done idly gazing out the window.
When did enjoying a moment of repose become fodder for judging myself purposeless? When did playing start to make me feel guilty? What was the fear behind my finger-wagging? I can’t say I know what the fear is exactly. It is probably connected to the fear of not being good enough. I don’t know, but catching it this morning was enlightening. I reviewed the list of things I planned to do in my head and thought to myself that only one of those items had any negative consequence if not done today. I certainly had time to experience the joy of watching nature.
I took note of the reaction I’d had, tried to smile at my folly and to make awareness of this tendency a higher priority. I don’t want to miss out on the fun of life while I’m organizing my sock drawer!