During the nearly last month, I have had maybe two days of outright, "didn't have much to do". I try to have at least one appointment, social or otherwise each day. I am somewhat, no, very, fearful of falling into an impenetrable lassitude now that I am without a regular job for the first time in 30 or so years.
This is probably a silly concern as by nature I am energetic, oh, let's rephrase, intense. Some things cannot be forced, and today, quite simply I had little pre-planned to do. I rose fairly late, at 10 a.m., in part because I could not sleep last night, and in part because, well, I could. I had that indispensable cup of coffee and went off to Mass, which I have found, perhaps somewhat unspiritually, or maybe it is spiritual ultimately, has been a stabilizing action of many of my days. I visited with some friends on the parish grounds, grabbed a most delicious salt bagel with cream cheese at my local Bagel Broker and retired to my home to nosh and to read the paper.
I wasn't entirely able to leave it at that, though. I made the beginnings of a sketch on a canvas, using the shadows of a trellis with some vines. I worked, ever so little, on two writing projects. I viisted with my uncle. By then it was only 4 thirty and I was feeling guilty that I had not adequately used my time for today.
And then it occurred to me that maybe, just maybe, this was exactly what I was supposed to do today. That this need to accomplish is ephemeral. I did accomplish did I not? And the end result was that I was told my services, all well evaluated for many many years, were no longer needed. If there is accomplishment it is either for God or for one's intrinsic purposes. And it is measured in many ways, not all of them by product or result.
In that sense, then I an accomplished quiet day.
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