This thirtieth day of October is the thirty-first day of my "31 Days" journey (that's a lot of thirty-somethings). The first post for the series was on September 30th (with one leading up to and laying a sort of foundation for it a fews days earlier). Though tomorrow is the last day of this month of writing I will spend it looking ahead to what I'd like to write about in November. For today, it feels only right to reflect a little on this month of writing that's passing away, to essentially eulogize it. It lived a good life.
The goal was to plant good grass to crowd out weeds in my life. It started with this aim . . .
"It will be about thoughtful work
to assign and appoint
my thoughts and energies and time and effort
so that those things don't run away from me
leaving me with dreams un-chased
or days not fully lived."
or days not fully lived."
"Assign"ing and "appoint"ing, days "fully lived". Phew, those are tall orders. I certainly did some of that.
And I also didn't.
The intimidating thing to me from the outset about 31 Days was
Mostly, I knew I wanted to write with regularity, more than any other time before, and to weed out some things that hold no value in my life. I see now that in perfect imperfection, I did both.
What I didn't know was that the greatest thing from this month of days putting words on a page is learning and remembering and reflecting on God, people, and myself to the measure it has been. Routines and schedules, goals and projects, are sometimes necessary and worthwhile, but they pale completely and fade into translucence when set up against the worth of people and relationships. Finding more of God and of friends - and of me - is such a gift from these days. It happened in unexpected measure and, truly, I'm in awe.
The grass is greener these thirty-one days later.
For every weed that's been tamped down or pulled up or crowded out, there's another that has popped up in almost direct ratio. It's funny how that happens. Some days that's so frustrating to me. But the truth is the work isn't done until we die. Alongside ambition and discipline has to be patience and grace walking hand-in-hand. And in all of it, may there be people and relationship, flesh-and-blood companions on the journey; eyes that see from another perspective, voices that speak when yours is weak, arms that embrace and help to steer. Iron sharpening iron.
The grass is strikingly greener.
If you've read even one post this month, do me one favor: turn up your speakers (better yet, put on headphones), press play below, close your eyes, and listen. Then feel it, that hope that surfaces in knowing you're not alone - not in the winning or the losing, in the conquering or the struggling. It's my thank you to you for reminding me of the very same this month by your presence here. We're better together, aren't we?
It's been a good month.