Have Yourself a Merry, Grounded Christmas-time

Am I a good time manager if I get things done quickly?  Do the better time stewards living among us always select efficient methods of accomplishing tasks?  When I don't finish all the items on my daily list, did I let someone down?  If only I could take a pause between acts in the play of my life and ask the unseen director, "What's my motivation here?"

Since the organizing bug stung me sometime around my fifth birthday, there's scarcely a day that goes by when I'm not setting something aside for the thrift store or examining my lists to see which task is most important to address.  Using time wisely is always in my mind, even though my naps do woo me over for part of almost every day.  Living in my head is exhausting.

A few months ago I began acting purposely inefficient at home, to add more physical activity to my day.  Instead of just one trip from the laundry to the bedroom to fold and put away the clothes-- dropping socks along the way--I began making an extra leg in order to take more steps.  This worked as planned for my health goals but there was one unexpected side effect; as I focused less on efficiency I became more distracted.  I had turned into a person who noticed and savored the little things.

Photo by J. G. Collier 2016

Do you find that when you're doing well in one area, say eating healthy, it's easier to do well in related areas?  Eating better leads to sleeping better and that leads to feeling positive enough to exercise more, and so on.  The opposite can be true and this is what I have experienced; being less attuned to efficiency has led to a general mental relaxation and now I notice many other things in my life that had just been in the background.  How rich that cranberry fabric in the quilt looks in the glowing mid-morning sun, what a soothing sensation it is to my fingertips when I straighten the chenille coverlet on the bed, the wild music our hometown river makes when I stand still and listen at different spots along the new pedestrian bridge.

It was the four recipes for latkes that drove this awareness home to me this week, while I thought I was simply planning a menu for our "Early Christmas" celebration.  There I was, looking through my saved recipes and chiding myself for finding two clippings for sweet potato latkes.  Then a third.  Then the fourth.  Four times, over maybe ten years, I had innocently been looking through a magazine,  paused and thought, "Mmmm, I love latkes.  I'll have to make these sometime."  Even a scribbled message to the future me on one card, "Takes two hours to prepare," didn't wake me up enough to toss it out after the first trial.   Nope, I decided to try again this year.  I was so caught up in the dream of serving and relishing those latkes that I didn't notice the time cost involved in making them.

This morning I roused myself from my unfocused, idealistic stupor and thought, "Do you want to feel downtrodden and frustrated the hour before friends and family arrive, or do you want to wake up, be efficient and have more time with the people you've invited?"  Efficiency won.  No stuffed shells (2-3 hours prep) as the main dish, roasted veggies instead of latkes and a new, but easily made, dessert to surprise the tastebuds.  After-dinner caroling accompanied by a skilled musician friend on my seriously out-of-tune piano and no gift giving except the delicious side dishes and desserts shared by guests as presents for all.

I'm still going to use the china and silverware, though.  My kitchen cleanup is down to a science after all these years--the secret is soaking everything overnight and washing up when you're rested the next morning, while my elf in cowboy boots does his magic on the carpets and floors.

Living "in the moment," sometimes even luxuriating in it, is a rich way to appreciate life.  I just need to remember that organization and efficiency are oldie-but-goodie friends and provide the neural glue that keeps my ideas and dreams grounded.