Something & anything

late summer reflections on savoring the now

“I don’t want to do something.”

We don’t always have to be doing “something.”

It’s different than saying “I don’t want to do anything.”

I do want to do anything, just not an anything that’s something.

Something is vacuuming the living room, sorting the papers on my desk, weeding the garden, revising my resume, going through an abundance of unread email.

“Well, that’s something,” as they say.

Anything is watching monarch butterflies dance around the fluffy purple blazing star flowers, sinking my bare feet into the soft green grass, closing my eyes and tilting my head to the sun’s warmth, picking a ripe cherry tomato and popping it into my mouth.

Somethings, as I define them here, seem to be obligations, requirements, things that are “productive.”

Anythings, as I define them here, seem to be delights that anchor us in the present moment, that exist here and now.

Of course, I’m just playing with words. Making my own inferences and indulging my own inclinations. Examining my thoughts and feelings. Perhaps making meaning and sense for myself. Perhaps for others too.

***

Yesterday, on a summer Saturday with no scheduled event or fixed obligations, I let myself gravitate to the anythings.

We took our morning walk nice and early, before the heavy humidity set in. I puttered around the house a bit. We mounted our new hummingbird feeder in the yard. And, okay, I did pull a few weeds. Mostly, I let myself get lost in a book. I made a simple salad with fresh tomatoes, cucumbers, and parsley from our garden to accompany our dinner.

***

This summer has passed quickly, at least for me. I haven’t had many spacious days to relax in backyard delights and get immersed in a novel. See my posts about spaciousness, here and here.

Soon it’ll be fall, blazing brightly and briefly.

Then the gray and brown winter will set in.

There’s no time like now to soak in the cheerful bright pinks, purples, yellows, and oranges. There’s no time like now to appreciate the abundance of greens. There’s no time like now to savor the fresh flavor of a juicy cherry tomato or sprigs of mint tossed in a glass of cold water.

I’m savoring the smells and sounds and tastes and feelings of summer.

I’m thinking of ways to bring those joys into my week.

Perhaps a cutting of zinnias set in a jar on my desk and a handful of cherry tomatoes packed in my lunch.

***

May we revel in our senses to appreciate this wonderful world.

May we find simple pleasures and sparks of joy each day.

May that which we savor bolster us as we navigate the mundane, the productive, and the difficult days that are also part of the journey.

With care and gratitude,

Mary

***

If you haven’t already, please check out last week’s post “Both/and: encompassing more.” It’s an excellent companion piece to this week’s musings.