We are, I found myself thinking, all wounded warriors struggling toward a Great Promise of some kind, feeling its pull in our hearts, the truth and reality of its call. We give it different names and have a wondrous assortment of interpretations of it. It doesn’t matter. It’s far larger than any of us understands and better than all of us together could imagine.
The fulfillment of that Great Promise feels so far away sometimes. But sometimes, more and more often, we get a sense that it’s just ahead. We expect to see it any minute now. We just have to make it through this one last stretch of tight darkness and there it will be, opening its welcome to us.
Meanwhile, there’s today. Based on past experience, we suppose it will go more or less as we expect it to go. It will have its usual rhythm of tasks and demands, its moments of rest and interruption, its flickers of of surprise and of appreciation, To have an ordinary day is a blessing you know.
A wise novelist whose name escapes me at the moment said we should greet every day as if it’s our first, or our last. Try one of those on for size. See how the world looks from there. I’ve been looking at them as if each one is my last, myself, cherishing the make-up of my Now. Nevertheless, especially when I’m lucky enough to be around infants, I let myself try to remember or imagine how the world looks when you see it for the very fist time.
But as I was saying, here we are, smack-dab in the middle of today, free to do with it as we choose. Thanks for choosing to spend some of your moments with me, by the way. That makes me smile. In exchange, I’ll tell you a story.
Dr. T was telling her colleague and friend Dr. P how frustrated she was that she hadn’t mastered this new skill she was working on. “And you started practicing this when?” he asked.
She said she had begun a week ago last Tuesday, and he smiled at her and said, “Maybe you’re exactly where someone should be who’s been practicing for less than two weeks.”
She got the point, and laughed. She immediately let go of the impossible expectation she had raised for herself.
We don’t get to our goals in the blink of an eye. They require us to hone our skills, to sharpen and polish them, to repeatedly practice doing the things that will move us nearer our target, over and over. That’s what a practice is. It’s building a routine with the aim of getting better and better at it all the time, giving it greater attention, getting more insight, expanding our understanding.
When you practice routinely, the distance to the goal doesn’t matter. The whole purpose of seeking mastery is to spur continuous improvement. All that matters is that today you will practice intentionally. No matter what you did yesterday or how many days have passed when you didn’t practice at all, or whether you think you’re any good at it or not, today you can decide to do your practicing.
At the end of his conversation with Dr. T, Dr. P said his grandmother once asked him how long he’d had his practice. “Over 25 years,” he told her.
“Well son,” she said, “You know, we’re always practicing.”
Nice that we get to choose what our practices will be, isn’t it?
As for me, I plan to continue being a Joy Warrior for a while. Feels worthwhile.
May all your practices bring you contentment and peace.
Warmly,
Susan