Columnist Diane Cameron, in Sunday's paper, proposes that; While we delight in holidays, we know that our ordinary time is much more precious. Our ordinary days, though they don't often make it to photo albums, are the days in which we are living our real lives. Those of us who are addicted to work, to action, to production; lack an appreciation of ordinary time. We are always focused on deadlines, goals, and hitting the "home run". We experience "ordinary time" as an inconvenience and a nuisance. Ordinary time, to the workaholic, is non-productive and an obstacle to accomplishing what needs to be done.
A recent illness has caused me to adopt a reduced work schedule and experience "ordinary time" differently. I have begun to embrace the truth of Cameron's words that "ordinary time" is where we are living our real lives. It is in the ordinary rhythm of life that we are blessed with the simple gifts that make life worth living. A hug from a grandchild, a meal around the kitchen table, a cup of tea and the morning newspaper, an intimate conversation with a spouse, watching the birds at the bird feeder in the whiteness of a snowfall. These activities are not productive in the way I usually define the word but produce in me a sense of peace and happiness that I have rarely felt before. I guess the author of Ecclesiastes really did know what he was talking about when he said:
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