I sat at the piano at church at 7:30 Sunday morning, with my heart racing and palms sweating, for the rehearsal with choir and chamber orchestra and all I could think of was how much easier it would be to be at home in bed.
Then the music started. I couldn't imagine having missed out on being a part of it.
At the moment, it's true, there is too much going on. The plant sale delivery last week couldn't have been timed any worse. Having the studio recital on the same day as the choral service did not help.
I had my meltdown. Friday afternoon. It had something to do with Bill wanting to get the oil changed in the Challenger. It's just that I had twenty errands to run and a checklist a million miles long and performing service on a car with 37 miles on the odometer didn't seem like a priority to me. He was an angel and stayed home and folded the laundry from ten days ago instead.
I'm not blundering through my life. I put a lot of thought into the decisions I make. I'm holding fast to the philosophy that in order to make any difference in the world, in order to grow and help my kids grow. . . there's gonna be some tough moments. There's gonna be some weeks where we have to dig clean socks out from under a mountain of unfolded laundry. Where the cats have to deal with a stinky litter box. Where a few houseplants bite the dust.
Will I look back and say it was all too much?
I don't know. But I hope it will be better than looking back and saying I always had my socks folded. It would be a lot easier--just to fold the socks--that it. It is a little tempting. And it might suit my personality better.
I hope I will look back and say I couldn't imagine having missed out on being a part of it all. . . next time just not all in the same week.
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