An Imposed Simplicity

As COVID-19 has reached my home province of Manitoba, there have been some dramatic changes.  Organizations and lifestyles are being whittled down to their most essential parts.  I’ve been hearing the reactions to what is happening, and many are mourning the loss of events and socialization opportunities.  People are worried about mental health – depression and anxiety, for example.

I feel like a bit of an oddball in all of this.  I do worry about the normal things – health risks, the economic toll, poverty, etc.  But as far as things being cancelled?  I feel like my mental health is better than it was before.  I’m sure the feeling of loss will kick in eventually…but, it hasn’t yet.

Before the pandemic, my children and I were committed to a variety of activities through school, preschool, church, and family.  Admittedly, I often involved us in these things out of a sense of duty.  We should participate in community.  We should volunteer and serve.  We should fellowship in groups.  My children should spend lots of time around other kids.  We should be physically active.  We should work hard.  We should always be learning – academically, and otherwise.  We should go on family vacations.  

We should, we should, we should.

I would write it all on my calendar, and then feel like crawling into a hole.  I would wake up in the morning, and want nothing more than to rest, because I am always tired.  I would drag myself from place to place.  These events were not feeding me, they were draining me.

I suppose, I’ve been putting too much pressure on myself, and on my family.

Do we really need so many programs, events, and commitments?

Perhaps this is a stretch, but it’s gotten me thinking about the tower of Babel.  Building, and building, trying to reach Heaven.  Striving for that ideal lifestyle.  Covering the bases.  Doing it all.

Look at this building.  Look at this program.  Look at our creativity!  Our ingenuity!  Our abilities!  Our wealth!  Just watch as we go, go, go!

It doesn’t take much to scramble us all up, does it?  A few days, a few weeks, and we’re ground to a halt, forced to re-examine our priorities.

In my life I’ve felt a great deal of stress about things like: finding the ideal job, having a certain kind of home, or getting my kids involved in the right extra-curricular activities.

I bet people who are recently laid off would be happy for nearly any job – not just the one that ticks all the boxes on their wish list.  People struggling to pay their mortgage or rent would be pleased to have a roof over their head that they can afford, even if it isn’t a dream home.  And as a parent maybe I need to realize that “extra-curricular” means just that – EXTRA, as in, non-essential.  And perhaps, at times, unnecessary.

I’m not saying that fellowship, education, and organized activities are bad things.  To the contrary.  They are privileges, and I am grateful for them.  However, I am noticing – in my life, anyway – there is relief in trimming away some of the excess.

Has your life become simpler lately, or more complicated?  Are you experiencing stress, relief, or both?  I would love to hear your thoughts in the comments section below.

Warm wishes,

Lisa

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INFP, and other things

Oh, it’s been too long since I’ve written.  I feel as though I’ve gone from one kind of busy to another.  It used to be that we’d get ourselves packed up, dressed, and ready to go nearly every morning, and rush off to school, work, preschool, church, or whatever we had planned for the day.  Now, I stay home with my two boys, make sure my eldest does his school work, and try to prevent the two of them from fighting too much.  I focus on keeping them meaningfully engaged throughout the day and squeeze in as much housework or cooking as I can.  Honestly, I prefer this type of ‘busy’ to the former.  Being a recluse comes easily to me.  It has actually gotten me thinking about how I could change my lifestyle when this is (God willing) all over.  The irony, for me, was that when the pandemic cleared my schedule, I found myself breathing great sighs of relief.  (Perhaps I have been over-committing?)  I think it’s silly that it took a pandemic for me to realize that.

Many people are familiar with the Myers-Briggs personality test.  I am INFP, leaning very heavily toward the introverted end of the spectrum (above the ninetieth percentile).  “Notoriously difficult to get to know,” according to one description of INFP that I read.  Although I enjoy people and can always see good in them, being with others (and especially in groups) is exhausting for me.  Sometimes I feel that the rest of the world moves too fast.  They talk fast, they walk fast, they do everything so darn fast.  Social media, especially Facebook, move at the speed of light.  I feel barraged by information, words, and images, constantly, without the time to process or think deeply about everything, the way that I would like to.  This is why, at the end of each day, I shut myself into the bathroom and run a hot bath.  Did you see that episode of “Stranger Things,” where they used a bathtub as a sensory deprivation tank?  That’s what it is like for me.

Once, at a group I attend at my church, we were sharing around the table, as we often do.  A couple of very deep questions were asked by the pastor, and we were supposed to take turns answering them.  A lump formed in my throat immediately and my head swirled with thoughts.  Did I have answers for those questions?  Well, how long have you got?  I could write a book on each one.  I glanced at the clock, and looked around the table.  A handful more people to share after me.  Only about 15 minutes of sharing time left.  That would leave me with 2, maybe 3 minutes, to say my piece.  I thought about the other ladies.  They barely knew me.  Even the ones who have known me for years…how could I make them understand?  I blinked back my tears, and drew a breath.  “I think I’ll pass,” I said, “those are very big questions.”  Yup…notoriously difficult, to get to know.

Having this personality comes with its baggage.  It’s not that we don’t want to be known.  We do.  And, we see the easy closeness that other people share, and we envy them.  We feel the pain of exclusion when not invited…but, we understand.  It’s not their fault, it’s not ours.  It just is.

Having this personality also comes with its delights.  The tiny things of life bring great joy.  The sunrise, or the sunset.  A cup of tea.  The laughter of children.  A piece of art.  The sun on my face.  The world is rich, beyond belief.

And here, on my blog, I can share thoughts as slowly as I want.  Those who want to, will read them, while those who move at a faster pace, can breeze on by.

I’m sorry for my unexplained absence.  I’ve missed reading your posts too, especially those with whom I used to interact with regularly.  I think I have brain space to blog again, but my posts may not look like they used to.  I may give up on sticking to a schedule, or a particular type of content.  My posts won’t be edited or curated as carefully anymore, I don’t think.  It’s too much of a burden right now.  These days I need to write as my children talk to me almost constantly, and I need to stop every minute or two to tend to something.  So, the blog will be whatever it will be.

But, I need my blog!  I need my pen pals!

I will try to visit your blogs in the near future too.  Please feel free to comment below; how is everyone doing these days?  I would love to hear from you!

Warm wishes,

Lisa