I had plans for the night. Not detailed plans but plans nonetheless. They involved resting, eating with my housemates, maybe replying to emails, probably watching a documentary and then going to bed early. A simple introverted night where my mind and soul would recover.
But living in community I am realizing those nights don’t happen as often as planned. And that I can’t plan other people’s lives to fit mine, even though that might be more enjoyable…for me.
A couple weeks ago, I got home from work and rested for a minute while checking the emails and then went to spend time with the community. I decided after ten days away it might be nice to spend time with my house. There was talk of a movie, which would take place outside my room and require me to listen if not watch. Then we decided to eat outside and another friend came over and the chairs were moved to the outdoor fireplace. At once it seemed it was 10 and time to get ready for bed or at least to start thinking of that.
Last night I was in a deep funk. My head was going to dark places as it likes to do this time of year. The busy-ness of life was building bridges to nowhere. Confusion about the future and what path I am headed to or am currently on was stressing me out. The lack of a planned day of rest in the near future, right after a three day weekend that was far busier than planned compounded with work just caused me to hate life with the tasks and problems and difficulties and…
So when I arrived home, soaked from the rain, I decided I was going to be a hobbit. But first I had to put away my laundry covering my bed. Then I heard what sounded like bucking elephants being ridden in a rodeo above my head. It was then that I realized my house was being prepared for an amazing party this weekend right then and also remembered I had to actually cook as part of our shared meals. This, of course, took longer than expected. A few minutes after I finished the meal, I found myself helping to clean out the fridge and dispose of the year old sauces, expired dressings, and other food that gets left behind when community lives together and assumes that someone else must be using that wheat germ from 2006. Or more accurately when someone moves out and their wheat germ doesn’t.
As I laid down to sleep those nights and realized I had neither soul or mind rest as desired, and even as I write this tired and stressed because my lunch break ends in four minutes, I realize when my introverted self isn’t allowed to be a hobbit every single week, but is instead forced to laugh with friends, I still end the night saying…
It was a good night.
I posted this then deleted then recovered it then deleted it and am reposting it again, slightly edited. I feel it is poorly written and speaks of my funk. I am trying to get to be better at not censoring myself and just letting the words go out. That means that you, the reader, can start telling me what is good or bad. So please feel free to tell me what’s good or bad below. Once your comment is approved once (I realize you are not a robot with naked people links), it should be easier to comment in the future.