The really wonderful moments of joy in this world are not moments of self-satisfaction, but self-forgetfulness.
John Piper, Don’t Waste Your Life
Seven years ago.
I’m on I-5 heading toward home. I see a billboard with an image of a couple relaxing in lounge chairs on a sandy beach with turquoise water and palm trees in the background. The words,The Good Life, are scrawled across it.
I think of the times we’ve been to a place like that; it is, indeed, a slice of good life. But if that’s the good life what does it say about the rest? The not-so-good life? The less-than-perfect life? The covetous-not-content life? The image, and the message, bothers me.
Later, sequestered upstairs in my woman cave, I tap out a few lines about my good life: chopping veggies for dinner, folding laundry, sharing a laugh with my husband, in my office preparing for a meeting, in my home office working on my book, hugging my grandchildren, crying tears of frustration, sitting with my neck massager tying to ease the pain in my shoulders.
Right here. Right now.
Stress, my constant companion and sleep stealer, tries to rob me of it, but I know the beautiful tapestry of a life well lived is crafted with ordinary God-glorifying moments.
I buy a little four-by-four foot raised bed garden, throw some seeds in the ground, and wait to see what might come up.
Today.
I feel a restlessness and a longing—not for sitting on a beach living the world’s definition of the good life, but for routine and ordinary time. Even now, retired with my time largely my own, I feel the lure of busy. I don’t want to be, but too often I am.
What is it about myself, and about this world, that I keep forgetting that being trumps doing? Why do I so easily lose sight of the fact that my deepest fulfillment is never found in the world’s definition of the good life?
Why do I, too often, seek significance and purpose out there when it’s right here, in this moment, with my God-given abilities flowing in ordinary time?
I go to the Lover of my soul, where I find rest and I remember: the gift is not in pursuing the world’s definition of the good life, it is in pursuing the Creator. Simple.
I set an intention, once again, to “decide what [my] highest priorities are and have the courage—pleasantly, smilingly, nonapologetically, to say “no” to other things.” (Stephen Covey)
I throw some more seeds in the ground, tend my garden, and wait with anticipation to see what will come up.
And it is well.
I like turquoise beaches as much as the next gal, but my happy place is sitting around the dining room table playing a board game with my grands. Or reading a lovely post like this. Or time with friends over coffee or lunch. Or (pardon me here) going to school and studying – I love it. Life is good right where I am, no beaches.
All of the things you mentioned (including going to school and studying) are beautiful examples of the good life, Karen. It’s a great gift when we come to the place of understanding that we are blessed, right here and right now, and that these ordinary moments become extraordinary when viewed through that lens. Wishing you another wonderful day.
I struggle with this too, Linda. I’ve been so busy all of my life, that it has become an ingrained habit to dash around and do this and that all day long. Much of the time, I seem to be spinning my wheels, so it’s not that I get so much done! At one time, I used to be better at living in the moment, so I know how it feels. Today, I’ll try to revive the practice—thanks to this marvelous post!
I believe it’s a fallacy that we accomplish more when we are busy. I think we all can use a reminder of the blessing of slowing down. Hope you have a spectacular day!