Sometimes I live whole days without knowing it. Morning to night, it’s as if my time is spent in a vacuum. School is dull, relationships are difficult, work is overwhelming and so I shove it all to the back of my mind. I don’t feel fulfilled in what I’m doing, so mentally checking out seems the easiest option.
I think we all have days like this, days where we just put our heads down and push through our busy schedules until we reach those blessed moments where we can truly be ourselves. It’s incredibly difficult to be active participants in our lives when we feel that the things we’re doing aren’t expressing who we are as individuals. The problem is we can allow this pattern of rushing and pushing to overtake our lives. We can fall into the trap of believing that we are only really living at the end of the day, in our moments of freedom. If we only engage in the easy, interesting, “free” bits of our lives, we sacrifice a massive portion of our lives to empty space and anonymity.
Currently, I’m experiencing these days in greater frequency; they always take hold during the school year. But, as a wizened senior, I’ve found a few ways to counteract my vacuum days. I find it helpful to view each day as sanctified, as an offering to God. Under those terms, it becomes apparent that even the mundane is sacramental. Understanding our lives as offerings attributes our participation much more significance and depth, whether we’re working our dream job or cleaning the house.
Granted, it’s much more pleasant to view our successful moments as important than it is our disappointing or humdrum ones. We have trouble acknowledging that the seemingly boring or unfruitful bits of our lives contribute just as strongly to who we are becoming as individuals.
Brother Lawrence, a seventeenth century monastic, viewed his life by this standard. He believed that his most commonplace deeds were what truly cultivated his spirit, not the times when he was in the spotlight. He even viewed washing dishes, a task which he is reported as disliking, as an act of worship. He said, “I am doing now what I will do for all eternity. I am blessing God, praising Him, adoring him, and loving Him with all my heart.” His practice was to be fully present in what he was doing while also acknowledging the ultimate purpose of each action, however lowly.
If this sounds hyper-spiritual, I understand. It can certainly be harmful to tell people who are living in extremely difficult circumstances that they need to focus on each moment in their lives. However, I believe that when we make ourselves more available to our grief, our irritation, or our boredom, we have greater potential to live more fully in our joys as well.
When A.J. Swoboda visited Houghton earlier this month, he spoke about his addiction to alcohol, how it numbed his pain but also affected his ability to feel happiness and other emotions. When we discount the ordinary moments of our lives, a similar effect is created: we numb our ability to enjoy the times when we are at our most authentic. Being mindful of our lives, even the seemingly insignificant portions, centers us. It helps us grow into fuller, more aware people. And I, for one, hope to live fewer forgotten days.