Our days and our nights come and go pretty quickly. In between the sunrises and sunsets there are countless diversions and interruptions in our work or play -- the noise surrounds us and our brains are continually filtering and refiltering the static and activities in a effort to make sense of it all. This can be both mentally and physically exhausting.
The ability to pull away from time to time in the course of the day is a wonderful habit of health and many people will meditate, chant, take deep breaths or other things to move their minds ever so briefly away from the activities and concerns of the day. For me, I like to pray.
The best regimen I have adopted surrounds intentional prayer. Waking early, my thoughts will focus on those century-old prayers which remind me that the day is "not all about me," -- that my "prayers, works, joys and sufferings" will be offered as I serve others throughout the day. I will call on the Guardian Angels and others of my favorite heavenly intercessors to guide me through the day as the seconds tick into minutes, then minutes into hours.
The problem is that I then get going on the day and inevitably Tim will start his totally annoying morning yammering of nonsense or break out in song, followed by his comment, "I could have been an opera star." Yeah, he could have been something, but quiet doesn't seem to be among the choices.
If not him, then there is Jeannine. I never know exactly what awaits me as I make my way down the hall toward her room each morning. Sometimes she is wide awake and energized for the day -- up and getting the morning ablutions completed without me nagging. Most mornings, though, her reply to my cheery "Good Morning, Fuzzy!" is a groan or some unhappy mutterings I don't understand and she declines to repeat. All of a sudden those great intentions that started my day are forgotten as the noise begins to creep into my brain.
Life really intervenes and I find myself putting out brush fires and reacting to the activities of the day; furthermore, I find that I have lost that mindfulness of purpose I set as the day began to serve those around me with an open heart (you know, forgetting the it's not all about me attitude). This has really bothered me as I truly wanted to be able to live each day as positively and lovingly as possible. That infernal static just keeps getting in the way of my good intentions.
I finally had an idea to reset myself and I used the alarm on my phone to sound at 3 pm each day in order to do some intentional prayer. Those in the office, particularly Jeannine, are now accustomed to hearing the etherial harp sounding from my phone as my reminder to exit the busy-ness of the day for some intentional prayer.
I like to do a short version of the Divine Mercy devotion and meditate on the sufferings and death of Our Lord. Those few minutes in contemplation will many times reorient me and in the meditation of what He endured for me...how He served me to the fullest measure of His life...I renew my sense of purpose and many times I am able to close out the day at the office much less negative and irritable.
Making my way home at the close of each work day, and knowing that our evening routine may not quite be routine, it is nice to be able to recite my daily Rosary. In the time it takes to arrive home, I find that I can almost complete five decades, and if Jeannine decides to join in, we can finish the few remaining prayers before taking on the "real" business at hand: dinner.
You would think that the evenings at home, those few remaining hours before sunset, would be happy and productive hours. Sadly this is not always the case. Without intending to throw Jeannine under the bus, the nights are often fraught with contention as I struggle to encourage her to get some exercise done (taking a walk, dancing to her dance DVD), or goodness knows, take a shower, wash her hair and brush her teeth. My frustration builds and it is only as I leave her room after night prayers that I recall what Someone did for me, without complaint, but with humility and meekness. I have often turned to go back to Jeannine's room just to give her a hug and let her know I am sorry for any injustices I inflicted throughout the day, only to be met with a distinct look of bewilderment and impatience that I was "back again" to cause her more grief. Oh well.
So what it is worth, there will always be noise and static filling my days. Striving to avoid it is not practical unless I want to live in a cave by myself. Avoiding people and situations that impede my progress isn't the answer as it does not move me out of any comfort zone, encourage me to be brave and above all make me a better person. The answer is to embrace the noise, the static and commotion that fill my days with the idea that everything I do is a "prayer, work, joy, and sometimes a suffering."
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