Saturday mornings around here start slow. We sleep in as much as time allows, get up gradually and make something delicious for breakfast (or brunch, depending on what time we climb out of bed), like pancakes, omelettes, or biscuits. We’ll probably get out a crossword puzzle while we eat and take turns filling in the answers. We might turn on the TV and watch a couple episodes of an HGTV show.
Eventually– usually sometime between noon and 2:00 p.m.– we’ll get motivated. We’ll finally change out of our pajamas and go to a home store or antique store. Or we’ll open the garage door, pull out all our garden tools, and get to work weeding, mowing, and raking.
After a couple hours, we’ll get ready for dinner. Chad will start the grill and I’ll help with the prep work. We’ll set up the table outside, open a bottle of rose wine and sip it while the food cooks. After dinner, maybe friends will come over and we’ll sit around the campfire, talking and laughing and swatting the bugs away until late into the night when guests go home and we gather up the wine glasses and patio cushions and come inside.
Our days unfold slowly, gradually. We take our time in the mornings and just when I think we’re going to waste the day, we motivate ourselves and accomplish a couple things from the to-do list or spend important time with friends. It never seems too late to get started.
I think overall, Chad and I are slow people. We take our time. We mosey. We wander. We weren’t in a rush to get married. We aren’t in a rush to have kids. Too often, life pressures us to go faster: work harder, get more done, make big changes happen at all once, do, go, hurry. We look at our overgrown yard and wish it wouldn’t take us years to get the whole thing under control, but it will. And I think that’s okay, most of the time. It reminds us to be patient. It reminds us to keep going, slowly but surely, one patch of earth at a time.
Just like a Saturday, we start slow and let everything unfold gradually. That makes me excited for our future: we may have started out slow so far, but we have so much more that we can accomplish, so many more meals to share and campfires to enjoy, business ventures to try and projects to complete. It’s never too late to get started.
I forget all this sometimes, and feel like time is running out and we need to keep going, going, going to get it all in: to see all the places, and do all the things, and make all the money, and reach all the goals. But, no… Let life unfold. Exhale. Listen. Unwind. Be still.
Because there will always be more to do. There will always be more to see. There will always be more, more, more. And I’d rather sit around the living room talking than worrying about what we’re not getting done. I’d rather book a hotel in a tiny French town where there’s nothing to do than spend every minute of vacation going from sight to sight. I’d rather wake up late on a Saturday morning and have breakfast over a crossword than do almost anything else in the world.