Boston has been hit with wave after wave of snow. Have you heard? Maybe here? or here? Well it's true. And from how all the long term locals are acting I'm starting to believe that this may have been the most evil winter, even for the North East. And with all my snow days and all the time where I'm cooped up inside, you would think that I would be all caught up on blogging by now. Yet, here I am struggling to write about a weekend from a month ago.
I could apologize or promise to make up for it but the problem is that I've been in a rut. It seems melodramatic I know but winter is hard, and I am a person who is most happy when I am productive. I really think all people are. Many times I tell myself that productive looks like grading a set of papers or trying a new recipe or even a new blog post but I can get beyond my type A personality and see how with intentionality, most things can be productive. An intentional watching of an episode with my husband can be productive. (But the struggle with snow days is that we sat on the couch and finished the West Wing far too quickly). Spending an extra two hours with girl friends than expected can be productive. (But with the 8 feet of snow we've gotten it's increasingly more difficult to meet with these friends). Even walking our town aimlessly can be productive. (But with the windchill, good luck getting me to leave the house). I guess with my ramblings I am trying to say that all things can be productive if they work toward the good and produce fruit. I think it's good for me to see this shift in mindset, definitely still an area for growth, that a successful day is not measured in how many things remain on my to do list and instead on the good that comes out of the few things I do.
It's the small moments that are able to make me feel like their really might be a spring to this evil winter and to this strange season of my life. It's the moments when I feel lazy and tired and bored and cooped up and anxious and selfish that I tend to praise God that I married my best friend. The one who never complains of how much we eat mac-n-cheese and hot dogs when I don't have the energy to cook. The best friend who calls you on your seasonal apathetic mood and makes you get off the couch to do something, anything outside regardless of how cold it is. The man who knows that as we work next to each other, silently and independently, that all it would take is playing this song to wipe the scour off my face. It was in this particular moment that I realized how selfish I was really being in this season of my life and how he was loving me unconditionally and I spent all of my time loathing anything and everything in my presence. As I put away my computer and started to dance (how can you not get up and dance to this song while wearing socks when you have hardwood floors?) I registered his shock and then joy. I think we listened to that song maybe six times. And it was good and I felt more productive dancing in my socks with my husband around our apartment than I had in weeks.
All this to say, I'm trying, struggling but striving, to find joy in every cooped up moment and recognize the times in my daily life that can bear unexpected fruit. I would close this not-so-short essay with the promise to get back to the blogging grind but you must remember two things:
1. regular blogging for me tends to always be at least a week delayed, maybe months.
2. I just admitted that for the past two months or so I've barely left the house so if I do blog I highly doubt you'll find my at home adventures enjoyable.
All this to say, if you read this kudos, if you keep checking back here at My Life, My Sweetness I may or may not have fun new things for you. Who knows.