So much energy.
Below, we start limited meetings at BIC again. Everyone is glad to hang out. Carefully.
So much to do.
IbuS gathers ferns and dill from the garden and replaces spent leaves and old water in the vases. Small things make me happy. But I don't want to do everything myself anymore.
So little time. We huff and puff.
And still, outside in the garden, the plants keep growing, the sun and moon mark the seasons, and the wind and rain keep blowing to make things stronger. Day after day.
Our 20s and 30s are decades of limitless possibilities. You really can do this or that. Even without money or between jobs, the future stands open before you. "Use your strength to serve God well," Scripture advises.
If you're healthy, your 40s and 50s are seasons of peak energy and drive. You have enough respect to have a voice in making decisions. You have enough experience to consider alternatives. "Pass along what you know and do good work."
And near the end of your 50s, you start to think, "Hey, no. I don't have to do that; it's not a great fit."
When you scrape away what no longer works - like this faded poster glued to a big wooden frame ... you suddenly see new possibilities.
Things may seem chaotic and be a total mess in the middle of shedding the past.
Well, whatever your age, here are three observations plus a bonus - and some questions for you.
1. Limit "I have to"
Actually, after a while ... no, you don't have to. In early adulthood, you absolutely must try new things, listen to your boss (or get fired), and do things the way they're prescribed. You're gaining experience and skills. If you set out randomly without learning how things are done, you'll waste a lot of effort. You can learn by watching, doing, and exploring. You do have to until you have a basic skill set.
After that, not so much. You find shortcuts, start pushing back at others' expectations, and begin to design a life that suits your relationships, circumstances, and gifting. Even if you feel stuck in a job, you can find other ways of fulfilling the need to be significant by serving - whether that's fixing cars, carving wood, knitting, helping a neighbor, writing a book, or ...
There are 1000 ways to keep growing outside of what you have to do.
In this big house, with many people coming and going, we hired a helper. She cleans and sometimes cooks, too. It's a great relief in the current season of work.
It's not just good for me though. It provides work for someone who needs income. That frees me to set the rhythm of life beyond my former chores: "Oh oh, if I don't wash and iron, the bugs that landed on our PJs will roam our closet." Or, "If I don't clean behind the stove and fridge today, the rats and roaches will probably take over." Even, "If I don't dust the fans we're going to have dirt dropping on our heads." (I was raised on German rules of housekeeping.) She cleans house while I lead other things.
I find a lamp in an unused room and dust off the spiderwebs. It casts a warm glow over my reading seat. She'll dust it next week.
2. Limit "I want to"
Dad turned 40 and starting flying small planes, scuba diving, and traveling the world. As a 16-yr-old, that looked like the right sort of life for me. I told myself, "Wait until I'm 40, then ..." I had all kinds of things I wanted to do.
I did a lot of them in my 40s. Education, art, mentoring relationships, travel ...
But flying and scuba diving? Nope. Those dropped off my bucket list. For one thing, I no longer loved swimming as much I did in my teens and 20s - the water was too cold. If there were plants in the water, I got creeped out. ("What fish could be lurking down there?")
I grew out of being a musician by stepping back for others to play. The first two years after I quit, I had to learn to sing. I also had to learn to clap rhythms through a whole song. Why? I'd been on stage, playing an instrument since my early teens. Now I rarely touch an instrument; I don't even know where my hard-won performance certificate got filed away.
I'm a different person. Letting things go makes room for who I am now and where I'm the best fit.
There are good and ugly stages in the same project, and sometimes in the same season.
You can't stop in the middle unless something is a very bad fit. Leaving partway is unsatisfying. (More of this painting, as it develops.)
3. Limit "I should"
Many obligations are driven by what others expect of us:
- Parents. spouses. children, aging relatives
- Colleagues, friends, peers, neighbors
- Bosses, religious leaders, authorities
- Your internal voices: "This is what I think everyone expects of me ..." (Remember, you may be delusional on this one.)
Some tasks land on our calendar because we refuse to say no. We become the dumping ground for what others don't want to do. "S/he will do it." Um, really? Is it your job - or are you a convenient default for lazy people? Or a pack-mule for those who don't bother doing their own work? (Stop enabling bad character.)
Other things have to be done whether we do or don't want to do them. Perhaps there truly is no one else - and they need to be done, like:
- care for orphans or the abandoned without family or friends
- tasks dropped by others that define or limit our own work
- urgent safety items; hospitality; generosity that depends on a flow of our resources
An observation: get out of the way. You don't have to do everything. You shouldn't do everything, either.
> Sometimes when you feel you should do something, you're acting out of habit. "We've always done it this way." Yeah, well, we used to have to run into the next room to answer the phone, too.
> Sometimes you're on default. You don't even think about a task that no longer serves its purpose. Do you still set the alarm for 5:30 a.m. after accepting a new job that ends late at night. Why? Reset. Reset.
> Sometimes - and this is especially true for perfectionists - you take work from someone else to "get it done right." Handing tasks off could teach others a skill set, mature their character, or push them onto the next rung of their career path.
No, you don't have to drive the ice truck. Someone else does that; you'll still get iced tea if you order it from the server.
Let mistakes happen. (Remember when failures happened to you - and you learned from them? Remember when you had to ask others how to fix your messes?) Give someone else the chance to do new things, even badly.
Sure, there are things only you can do, like spraying on bug repellent to keep mosquitoes from giving you tropical fevers. (Malaria or dengue, anyone?) But many common tasks are negotiable, once you have your feet under you.
A few vital questions for you at the beginning of 2022:
- What are you doing that you could drop right now?
- What are you doing that someone else could-should-would do if you let it go or handed it off?
- What would letting go of "have to," "wanted to," and "should do" open up for you? What else could you do - and who would you become?
The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing. He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he refreshes my soul.
He guides me along the right paths for his name’s sake. Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Surely your goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever. Amen.
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