Routine is a funny thing. My bones crave it and I'm finicky when our life lacks it. Then, the second our life falls into a steady pace of predictable, I decide that a little more adventure needs to be mixed in to fight the creeping feeling of discontentment.
Push. Pull. Back and forth the pendulum of contentment swings.
I think this feeling is a natural side effect of living in a world where the possibilities are endless. There is always more to read, more places to travel, more food to cook, and more people to meet. There will always be shiny objects that make us look side to side the second our life quiets down.
It's tempting, isn't it?
With the weather turning cooler and the sun going down quicker, our house is settling into a predictable and slow routine. Every fiber in me wants to fight it, but deep down there is a sense of delight and pleasure with how simple we are forced to be right now. Every time I find myself starting to get itchy with complacency and start to dream of "what's better", I remind myself of the sweet little sound of pitter patter our boys' feet make on the wood floor. Or, I think about the hot coffee my husband my presents to me after he tip toes up our old, creaky stairs each morning. I remember the smell of bread baking and soup bubbling as the sun starts to set. These are the things I want to remember.
I'll be honest--it's difficult. I twist and turn and compare. I often want more, less, something else. It's a conundrum.
But, the second I'm able to recognize the emotion and detach myself from it's grip, I'm able to relish in the simple. In what I already have. I recognize the crazy isn't as crazy as I really think it is. The strength of the intentional mind is powerful.
Right now, I'm thankful I can take delight in our worn floors and our stained chairs, the loud house when it should be quiet, and the slow routine my day often falls into. I'm sure there is a season of life right around the corner that will be full to the brim and I will dream of slower days.