cyclic seasons

The dishwasher in my apartment always seems to be full- either full and needing to be run or full, clean and needing to be put away. No matter how often it feels like I have JUST emptied it, it's somehow still awaiting someone to put the dishes away so the dirty dishes in the sink can stop piling up.

The reality is that our dishwasher does not magically re-fill itself with dishes while I am asleep or at work or class. Every day, three times a day, we cook and eat and produce the cups, silverware, bowls and plates that fill it. But I don't pay attention or take notice of those ordinary, everyday routines that accumulate into a full dishwasher. I am, however, forced to pay attention when it's full again and I'm left wondering how that could possibly be possible because there is no where to put my dirty spoon.

I think the same is true in regards to my awareness of living out each moment of my days. I'm constantly thinking "Gosh, how is it possible that it's time for this weekly meeting again. Has a week really already managed to pass since I was here last?" The rhythms of my weeks are marked by these weekly, daily routines- landmarks of time passing me by. I notice because I'm never quite sure how time could have lapsed so quickly.

I fail to pay attention to the smaller things, the unique everyday things, the tiny segments of time that lead me from one weekly rhythm to the next. The walk from class to my car. The conversation with a stranger in the library. The five minute conversation with a friend in between errands. The unexpected phone call.

Recently I've become convinced that these tiny moments are what I want to see. They are the things I want to be the landmarks of my time- not one Wednesday meeting to the next. When I focus on the big things, the things that I notice because they require specific tasks to be finished or decisions to be made or action to be taken, time races by. When I focus on the small daily things, I have the moment in front of me and I'm not constantly looking past it to the next thing that is to come.

I feel the beginning of the end of a season in my life approaching. Every time this happens I'm torn by this tension between the desire to cling to every precious second of what is and the somewhat painful realization that things can and will not ever be the same once it ends.

I've learned that this ending is healthy, good, necessary.
But I'm still not good at it.
Knowing it's coming does not make it easier for me.

So I'm making an effort to not only see the full dishwasher, but the processes, the moments, the in-between things that make this time precious. Because if it has to end- and it does- I want to see every piece of it.


In catch-up news:

-Midterms are this week. I have three, as well as a presentation, so I'll be spending a bit more time than normal studying.

-GBGM officially invited me to interview. (!) I'll be heading to NYC at the beginning of April. I'm hopeful that will translate to a few free hours to wander around Brooklyn and visit some favorite spots.

-Spring Break is next week. I'm ready for the break. Not so sure I'm ready to admit that the semester is half-over.

-Thinking about flying out to Seattle to visit my sis for a weekend.

-Lots of reflection these past few weeks. D and I were talking about freshman year this weekend and I'm glad the journey has led me to where I am now. I wouldn't change anything, but I wouldn't want to go back either.