What do you know, I am in a hurry again to do chores borne of my lazy bone procrastination. It takes a while for the old motor to warm up but once they’re all done, the term ‘rest easy’ comes to mind; my best two-word combination in the English language. Then, while plopped comfortably in the double pillow seat reserved for the old man of the house and discovering old pics, that warrants a few idle hours, all because of combing through boxes which need throwing out. That goes until it’s time to water the plants again; an added chore and silent cry by these “feed me” guys outside who easily wilt in the sun.
Save for limited laundry (the schedule of which is always at the mercy of the weather), writing for the Times and little cooking and cleaning, these pretty much sum up what it’s like being home alone while the rest are at work somewhere else.
“If a man does not keep in step with his companions, it’s maybe because he hears a different drummer.
HD Thoreau
Let him listen to the music he hears, however distant or far away. “
With regard to the latter, which is cleaning, it’s the only chore that can be excused with a pause (when knees and lower back get tired), followed by a reminiscing over old things which always seem to suddenly appear out of the shadows, hoping to be caressed once again like an old toy. As this happens, the little foreman in my head blows his whistle and wakes me from my reverie, yelling it’s time to go back to work!
I once had a teacher in high school who, aside from preaching about success, constantly pressed on us that an idle mind was the devil’s workshop. Didn’t really get it, thinking how’s any mind idle? If mine’s not on the lesson, it’s surely somewhere else and definitely cannot be idle.
As I return to the task at hand, I again look back at the daydream of several minutes ago and say to myself, it has served its purpose. Knees ok, back too, check! Break’s over.
Never one to justify, but a pause actually differs with each person. Yours could be minutes and other people’s could take more, depending on whatever. It’s only the opinion that puts a color to it. I always return to HD Thoreau when he said, “if a man does not keep in step with his companions, it’s maybe because he hears a different drummer. Let him listen to the music he hears, however distant or far away. “
Dropping quotes, here’s one African proverb to back that up: everyone has a song that is no song at all. It is a way of singing that, when you sing it, you are where you are. Back to daydreaming.
