Ah, Sunday mornings... A cup of coffee and The New York Times...
Did you know that we in the U.S. work more hours than any other industrialized nation? In fact, we work more hours than medieval peasants!
This Sunday, Oct. 24, marks the seventh annual Take Back Your Time Day. This movement, which grew out of the voluntary simplicity movement, is a “major U.S./Canadian initiative to challenge the epidemic of overwork, over-scheduling and time famine that now threatens our health, our families and relationships, our communities and our environment,” according to the movement’s official Web site, http://www.timeday.org/. (The date of Oct. 24 is significant: it falls nine weeks before the end of the year, and symbolizes the fact that Americans now work an average of nine full weeks more per year than Western Europeans.)
Many of my posts focus on simple pleasures, as I try to slow down and appreciate what a richly blessed life I have. But there is a second part to the tagline of “Catching Happiness”—what about everyday adventures?
I’m not what I would automatically think of as an adventurous person. Sky diving, bungee jumping, sailing around the world and other feats don’t appeal to me. But is that really what being adventurous means?
As adventure consultant Matt Walker wrote in “Climb Ev’ry Mountain,” “At its core, adventure is the willingness to commit to an uncertain outcome with an open heart and an open mind. It is the ability to take a leap into the unknown with mindfulness and grace. Framed this way, opportunities for adventure present themselves to us every day…”
(Notice the word “open” in there?!)
He continued, “Adventure isn’t something that’s reserved for the extreme athlete or the daredevil. It is an expression of your heart’s intention and passion for life.”
I may not be a stereotypical adventurer, but I truly am passionate and curious about life. I’m interested to see what each day brings, even when it scares me to death. Personally, I’ve found marriage and parenthood to be incredible adventures…talk about your commitment to an uncertain outcome!
Walker concludes that to bring more adventure into your life, you don’t have to scale mountains or travel the world. You invite adventure in by making small changes to your routine. Perhaps changes like choosing a different sandwich at your favorite lunch place or picking up a magazine you’ve never read before.
I see many of my blogging friends opening up to this sort of adventure: Teresa at Blueberries, Art and Life taking on Twenty-Minute Challenges and sharing what she learns, Cheryl at Scrappy Cat participating in a new author challenge, and Laure of Painted Thoughts stepping outside the studio to paint and sketch on location. I’m inspired by their efforts, and encouraged to make more small changes of my own. I recently went to the movies by myself—something I’ve never done before. Soon I’m going to try packing up my laptop and working at the library (where I can’t be distracted by laundry). Very small changes, true. But that’s the way it goes for an everyday adventurer.
Tell me, how do you invite adventure in?
When I’m not busy taking care of the family/house, writing, or providing equine spa services, I’m probably reading. It’s one of my favorite things to do and I usually have more than one (or two or three) books going at once. I just finished Dickens’ Bleak House, one of my “classic” reads for the year. I can’t remember ever reading Dickens before, and I found Bleak House absorbing, though not an easy read—and long (989 pages). I had recently watched the PBS miniseries with Gillian Anderson, so that helped keep some of the myriad characters straight in my mind. My trick for getting through long or difficult books is to commit to reading a certain number of pages per week, which allows me to keep up with the story line, but also read other things if I feel like it. I don’t like turning reading into a chore, but I also like to push myself a little in my reading choices.
While I was finishing up Bleak House, I began reading The Anthologist, by Nicholson Baker, a novel about a poet struggling to write an introduction to an anthology of poems. I enjoyed the main character’s personality, and had to smile when I read this on page 140:
“Thursday is the day of fear. On Monday you’re in great shape because you’ve got the whole week. Then Tuesday, still pretty good, still at the beginning more or less. Then Wednesday, and you’re poised, and you can accomplish much if you just apply yourself vigorously and catch up. And then, suddenly, you’re driving under that huge tattered banner, with that T and that H and that U and that frightening R and the appalling S—Thursday—and you slide down the steep slope toward the clacking shredder blades that wait on Sunday afternoon. Another whole week of your one life. Your one ‘precious life,’ as Mary Oliver says. You don’t have too many Thursdays left. There are after all only fifty-two of them in the year. Fifty-two may sound like a lot, but when Thursdays come around, fifty-two doesn’t seem like a lot at all. I just wish I had more money.” (Don’t we all?)
Another lovely book I read recently was Slow Love: How I Lost My Job, Put on My Pajamas and Found Happiness by Dominique Browning. Browning was the long-time editor-in-chief of House & Garden who lost her job when the magazine was abruptly shut down. Browning states, “I want to write about moving at a gentler, more loving pace in everything I do, learning to appreciate the beauty of everyday moments, the wisdom of thinking things over. I was forced to slow down when I lost my job--and the journey of grieving and recovery is what my book is about. Slow living led me to falling in love with the world, what I think of as slow love.”
Some of my favorite snippets:
“My basic decorating rule of thumb is to create as many lovely places in which to sit and read as possible. By this time in my life, I need a certain kind of chair and a certain kind of table nearby, a place on which to prop my feet, and a kind of light that suits my eyes.” (A woman after my own heart!)
“Over the years, though, I’ve learned not to worry so much about what will or won’t make it: I’m learning the ‘So what?’ lesson. So what if it fails? That doesn’t mean it was all a mistake. So what if it ends? That doesn’t mean it should never have begun.”
“‘Nothing to do’ is not the same as ‘Nothing can be done.’ One is hopeless; the other, the place from which hope becomes possible.” (You can visit Browning’s related blog at http://www.slowlovelife.com/)
What have you been reading lately? Let’s hear about what has entertained, inspired, encouraged or taught you.