"People with great projects afoot habitually look further and more clearly into
the future than people who are mired in day-to-day concerns.
They do not easily grow sad or old:
they are seldom intimidated by the alarms and confusions of the present
because they have something greater of their own,
some sense of their large and coherent motion in time,
to compare the present with."
A commonsense opinion, don't you think? If we let ourselves become "mired in day-to-day concerns" we soon lose our vitality. I do.
These daily concerns are inevitable for most of us. We must make a living, cook meals and wash dishes, fold laundry and mop floors. Our have-to's swallow up our want-to's, but who's to say that our want-to's aren't as important as our have-to's? Maybe they're actually our need-to's, one or two of them, anyway.
If we don't make and take time for the great project of our life, we can easily grow sad. We can become so "intimidated by the alarms and confusions" of our life, of this world, that we lose that feeling of joy upon awakening, that "Oh, boy, another day!"
We're not prone to feel sad or even our numerical age when there is a great project afoot to look forward to every morning when we get out of bed, when we have at least a small chunk of time to do something that keeps us from becoming grouchy old men and women. Something to keep our minds alert and our fingers nimble.
Was there ever a time when you found yourself lost in a project and rose from working on it almost giddy with happiness? So much so that even the evening news couldn't dampen your spirit, when bills to pay or health concerns were but minor nuisances?
Or have you become fatigued at times in your life and there was no time to figure out why? Was the fatigue physical, emotional, or spiritual--or a combination of all?
I have over the past few weeks, and I can't seem to figure out why it doesn't go away because it is so foreign to me at this stage of my life. I am a woman for whom hope springs eternal. I see the glass not only as half full but full of sparkling fizz and pink bubbles.
I knew that this post would only have one picture----
I thought about writing that my metaphorical fishing trip might last a week or two or more. But then, what would I do if Across the Way's magnetic force drew my fingers back to my laptop in a day or two? How much egg would I have to wipe off my face then?
No, I'm going to keep my options open. I am going to study Grudin's words some more because in the past I simply loved having great projects afoot.