Responsibility and Idleness

The other day I was musing that I would like a day off. More specifically, I said that I really, really, really, really, really want a day off. And that I wanted a cleaning fairy to do my chores.

I think that what I really want is a day without responsibilities.

I have so much that I HAVE to do that it makes it difficult to find the time to things that I WANT to do. When I do take time to do things that I want, I feel guilty because there is always something that needs done. I get get a true sense of accomplishment when I meet goals and needs, but the right side of my brain is really neglected.

I often wish that I had at least 200 years to live my life so that surely, in that amount of time, I would get at least some time to do fun "idle" things. I'm already 42 (nearly 43), and I've hardly spent a lick of time on the pursuits that I love, such as painting and writing. I always tell myself that as soon as I get my chores done, then there will be "idle" time to paint and write. I say "idle" in quotes because that was my father's definition. Trouble is, there is always a chore that needs done. Always. Even when I get what I think is an adequate amount of work done, then I'm exhausted.

My father was taught at a very early age that being "idle" was bad. In his family's definition, "idle" meant anything that wasn't a chore. The farm he grew up on had mounds of work to finish every day, and having time for other pursuits were not allowed. That's not to say he didn't have fun, but I think the fun was a by-product, and not an actual goal. To this day, my father can't read a fiction novel, because it isn't a good use of reading time. He gets so mad when my mother reads fiction novels because, in his opinion, there is nothing factual and therefore they are a waste of time.

With me and my siblings growing up, he taught us those same values. He would guilt us and nag us and shame us for sitting and watching TV, reading, crafting, or whatever until we got up and did something useful for the house. It was hard to watch cartoons on Saturday mornings when we were off from school; Dad was always there telling us what a waste of time it was. He was always very loving and affectionate, but he just couldn't sit and do nothing without guilt, and he taught me the same thing.

Now, what am I going to do with the rest of my life? I've got a battle to fight in my own head. I've got to get my priorities straight. I've already been letting my own children craft and read and play. I know how important that time is and how valuable it is. What about me? I've got to balance us out so that they do clean up their own messes instead of me cleaning up their messes, so that I can have time to play, too.

I see how much joy that the "idle" time brings. I see how it lights them up from the inside, and I know how that feels. It puts my brain in a completely different mode. The right side of the brain is electric. I "see" things differently. It's like being in a trance, and being in an altered state. It's a beautiful thing. I miss that.