My sister tried to tell me not to do it, but I did it anyway.
“Ter, don’t sort through any more boxes, the time for sorting is over. Seal up those boxes and you can sort through them after you’ve moved and are getting settled.”But did I listen? No. I simply had to bring home those four “junk” boxes from the storage unit so I could sort through them, throw much of away it, and repack what’s left into fewer boxes. The trouble is, I brought them home, started digging into them, and ended up making a bigger mess in my living room than I previously had. What happened to the day? What happened to my plan? “The best laid schemes o’ mice an’ men/ Gang aft a-gley,” or translated from 18th century Scottish, “The best laid plans of mice and men often go awry.” I could hardly consider my outline of the day as “best laid plans,” but I had hoped at the end of this day to have had more clean space in my house not less of it. But alas, here it is 10:55 Pacific and having worked literally all day–except when I sat down to eat–just now getting to the writing. Even West coasters who read my blog won’t get to until tomorrow sometime. In spite of my irritation with myself I am grateful nonetheless to be at the end of this day.
The “night time prayer” that I share here periodically, most recently a few days ago, contains a passage that is very appropriate to this evening:
It is night after a long day. What has been done has been done; what has not been done has not been done; let it be.Ah yes, let it be. Grateful to remember that the day is done and I’ve done the best I can with the time I had. Even the times I sat down to eat and watch a few minutes of college football were important to recharge my batteries enough to get back up and keep moving. I have to get back at it tomorrow for another dose of the same medicine. I will likely work all day and into the night again. And yes, miles to go before I sleep.
I am grateful for what I got done today, grateful for the stamina to be able to keep at the infernal sorting and tossing. I am getting closer to following my sister’s advice–tomorrow will likely begin the sealing up the junk boxes. But at least I will have four fewer than I had today. That in and of itself is a small victory. Tomorrow is another day, and I will face it as I often do when I first awaken and throughout the day, rejoicing and being glad. So be it.
