Musings: Happy Familiars

The fear of monotony can have a deadening effect on me. In fact, I often inadvertantly find myself avoiding routine, pattern, or schedule in an effort to keep things unpredictable. I'm a planner, constantly throwing the weight of my creative energy into an unseen future, which leaves many dangling moments in the present. And the fruit of this, much to my dismay, is my noticeable and surprising lack of memories. Memories which are made in the moment, not planned for in the future. Fortunately, I'm learning this chaotic state of flux itself can become a dirge of frenetic, draining activity which, in the end, leaves me feeling out of sync, behind, undisciplined, and well, cranky. My kids naturally follow suit. Funny how it works that way....

As I am constantly trying to simplify my life, to slow down and really train myself to experience life in each moment, I'm slowly finding refuge and even a hidden beauty in the steady hum-drum rhythms of my day. 'Familiars' that can anchor my fleeting fancies to the rugged realities, these mundane consistencies are the defining underpinnings of a life lived on purpose. The oft-quoted cliche "Variety is the spice of life" should probably be balanced with an understanding that the monotonies of life are the indispensable meat and potatoes, without which the spices are useless. I've decided variety, like one of a plethora of pungent herbs housed in miniture glass jars in my cupboard, isn't meant to be solitarily consumed. It leaves one with an overpowering, bitter, and/or decidedly nasty aftertaste.......as well as an antsy sense of malnutrition.

My happy familiars are things that on the surface appear boring, predictable, run-of-the-mill.....showering, cooking, schooling kids, laundry, dusting (uh, scratch that, as it's an unheard-of activity at the Hazelwood Manor). I'm wanting once again to embrace them for the humble servants and wise counselors they are. I've too long taken for granted their ability to nourish my life, to be my foundation, to keep time like the drum line in a high school marching band. Together they represent the default setting that runs on auto-pilot when life spins into the land of insanity (which is just about every day). They are the arms of safety when life gets too hard and too hairy....as a mother's arms comfort a child overwhelmed by the complexities of a life out of kilter. And that's what I want Hazelwood Manor to represent: a 'something bigger' that can be trusted as a safe, predictable place to rest when all hell breaks loose....a peaceable kingdom of squishy, stained couches, unfashionable stacks of Corelleware next to the sink, lumpy loads of laundry piled high, wilting flowers making a brave last stand on a dining room table that wasn't wiped up after the last round of burritos and chips. (Obviously, I have many more opportunities to establish even more 'happy familiars'!)

I'd love to be the Mary Cassatt of homemakers, who can fashion the ordinary occurances, the monotonous moments, the daily drugeries of life into idyllic still-lifes that affirm the very heart of what it is to be a human in loving relationships, created in the image of a God of loving relationships. So may the steady hum of the washing machine, the quiet sweep of magazine pages turning, the murmur of my voice droning on thru The Illiad and Uncle Wiggly and Dr. Seuss, the wafting smell of beef and noodles in the beloved white crock pot, the sight of my voluptuous frame perched at the computer, the stairwell neatly littered with 'stuff that needs to go upstairs'....may all these 'happy familiars' sustain the lives of those who dwell here. And may I discern those familiar routines that affirm the important stuff and give freedom to forget what just ain't gonna count in the gigantic metanarrative of my life.

How's that for a start?