This moment is profound.  It is significant. I’m not doing anything.

I am sprawled in a recliner, twenty feet from the ocean.  This is the extent of my activity.
Submerged in sunshine, I contemplate life and the panorama before me.  I can see surging breakers, rolling over an azure ocean.  Some waves crash in the sun-drenched waters; others roll onwards through deep shrouds of blue.  A few of them timidly cling to the horizon, silent flashes of possibility.  The rest of the waves vigorously introduce themselves as crashes and shushes on the shoreline.

From my recliner, looking out at the ocean I can see everything.  When we’re in the water, the experience is vastly different.

In the water you feel the pull of the waves. Each wave transforms into an adventure or a challenge for you to overcome.  The crashing of the water is no longer a gentle, white foam.  Instead, each wave becomes a brusque interruption of thunderous chaos – sand, salt, and grit beating against your body.  The perspective is not academic, it’s immediate, visceral.  In the water you can’t see the following waves.  All you can see is the next one coming right at you.

I tend to live in the thunderous chaos.  This is my default mode of doing life.

Defaulting to expectations

A trusted friend once told me, “Life is drudgery.  It’s about putting your nose to the grindstone and getting through it.”  Drudgery?  What a statement.  And yet my own existence betrays me.

My reality is this: I often awake to expectations. It’s not all bad and dreary, but my objective list frequently warms up before my shower does.  My day is planned before I wake-up. I just check in.  And if I’m honest, there have been time in my life where my daily schedule has been less about enjoying the ocean and more about finding my footing.

Waves – troubles, worries, hard situations — impact, one after another, on our soft souls.  Meet this deadline! Crash!  Get the kids to soccer!  Crash!  Get a new job, find time for your spouse, make new friends, make a life-altering decision – crash, crash, CRASH!  It’s easy to become a walking function.  Drudgery becomes my reality more often than I care to admit.

Wandering away from wonder

How’s the view in your life? Are you riding an exciting wave or just barely holding up against the undertow? Perhaps you’ve stood strong against the waves for weeks, months, even years at a time.  Or maybe there are moments where a question begins to surface as the waves thunder: Where has the wonder of life gone?

Do you remember those times when you were excited to live in the moment?  Where owning a house wasn’t about remodeling the bedroom, but it was about being in your own house?  Do you remember when going to the beach was all about throwing rocks for a few hours?  Think back, can you remember the days of wonder?

Stuffing in a shirt

We use this phrase around our house — stuffing in a shirt.  It refers to life situations when it doesn’t matter who is doing the task, all that matters is that the task gets done.  In those moments, I’m not me, I’m just a guy pouring cereal or changing a diaper.  It’s like I’m not even there. Have you ever walked through days like this?  Have you had moments when you feel like you lose yourself in the functions of life?  For that reason, it is good to be here in this moment, contemplating from my recliner.

As I sit and reflect, my mind keeps turning over a profound statement made by Jesus, “I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.”  Sometimes I get “having life to the full” confused with filling my schedule.  In order to experience a full life, it has been ingrained in me that I need to run at life “full-tilt” and “grab life by the horns” (or is it the bull?).  We’re told that “life is short so play hard”, and my personal favorite – “go.”  Or to quote Fight Club, “This is your life, and it’s ending one minute at a time.”

Translation: busyness gives your life meaning.

We’re taught that speed equals value.  If you go faster, you must be doing better.  To be busy is to be successful, spiritual, productive, or…( insert your favorite compliment here).  To experience enjoyment in this life means to be doing something.  It doesn’t matter if it’s rock climbing, jumping out of planes, or doggedly pursuing the top of the corporate ladder.

We’re told that we need to be busy, to be making memories, to be doing life so that our life has more meaning.  It’s as though a full life is something that I can attain for myself and the only thing holding me back is the limit on my credit cards.  I want to live fully, so what better way than to cram my schedule to its fullest potential?

Right?

Busy losing the meaning

I believe the keyword that we are searching for here is balance.  God wants us to be challenged in this life, to experience the world that He has created for us.  But in the midst of the madness of our weekly schedules, it is important to not substitute busyness for meaning.

What can we do when we’ve committed ourselves to a schedule that should include five assistants and a secretary? How do we keep our balance in the midst of the waves bearing down on us?  These are a few of the strategies I employ to avoid feeling like stuffing in a shirt.

Time for reflection is key. I know, I know, talk about being naive.  But ask yourself this, is being busy so important that I don’t have time to think about what I’m doing?  Is there time for enjoyment?  If being busy is the ultimate goal, then perhaps this is the first thing that needs to change.

Plan for breaks. Many times in our family’s life, we’ve needed a plan for rest or we find ourselves at the mercy of the waves.  Having a plan in place, we are able to schedule in meaningful time for each other.  Make-your-own-pizza-nights (Saturday) and quiet times (7-8pm), all have been programmed into our family’s schedule with the intent of building more meaningful time and less busy time.

Appreciate the wonder. Whether you’re chasing your two-year old around the playground or enjoying a relaxed cup of coffee, be in the moment.  Enjoy the wonder of life, savor the way your kids run, or the movement of the clouds, or just stop and hit pause.  You’ll be glad you did, and it will give you a greater appreciation (and energy) for the busy times.

I stretch out on my recliner, the advance and retreat of waves challenging my ability to remain motionless.  Crash!  Shush.  Crash!  Shush.  The waves continue in their pursuit of advancement.

It’s good to be here in this moment.  Reclining.  Appreciating.

Recovering wonder.

More ways to find a balance:
Balancing work and family
Life Lesson: Learn how to manage your time