Breathing in and out, I sit to write as the day closes.
One babe just blinked his eyes closed, while another reads.
Today has brought both joy and frustration.
Compromises and love.
I find myself at the end of the day, happy, yet somehow unsatisfied.
I have writing projects that need attention.
I turn away from and avoid the ones that are difficult.
(Yet I know these are in some ways the most important.)
From this state I question my habitual patterning.
I wonder, how do you measure a day?
(*and yes, you should be quietly humming “Seasons of Love” from Rent while you ponder this question for yourself…)
If I measure the day from an assets-oriented framing of my experiences, it would go something like this:
I created and shared home cooked meals for breakfast, lunch and dinner, to nourish and energize the entire family;
I engaged in and encouraged play and movement, yoga and biking, walking and greeting friendly neighbors, nourishment for mind, body, soul; and
I worked on my practices of writing and conceptualizing, letting go and giving in, reading and theorizing, conjecturing and wondering.
If I measure the day from a deficit-oriented framing of my experiences, it would go something like this:
I endured tantrums of a 2 year old screaming for his demands before every meal, before nap and bedtime, and the entire time we were in the car;
I sighed at the frustrations of a 6 year old who squints his face in unexpected ways, holding his breath and breathing rage like a dragon when someone (hint: he’s 2) pushes him or plays with his Legos ~in the wrong way~; and
I feel disappointment in not having (or taking?) enough time (or energy) to focus on more than one writing project, while enduring interruptions of my writing, reading, and conceptualizing.
From the first assets-oriented framing, I see and feel gratitude.
I smile, and reflect on a day well spent.
A balance of building family and scholarship.
Of friendship and well-being.
From the second deficit-oriented framing, I see and feel regret and disappointment.
I berate myself for not doing enough.
For not having answers to difficult questions.
Or somehow not living up to an expectation I’ve set.
I breathe in. I breathe out.
I recall an important assumption for life and living
You choose and create your own lens to make sense of your experiences.
From this assumption, I choose to measure the day in learning.
Today I have learned to love more deeply.
To express more openly.
To be gentler and kinder to myself, and to others.
And now I wonder, how do you measure a day?