Full of Life

I recently discovered an unattractive tendency in myself. This being an occurrence I particularly despise, I’ve pushed it aside for a few weeks, which -- of course -- has only heightened my awareness of this habit. Caught between doing and not, I have become dissatisfied in the thing I want most -- time of my own. The ability to dictate how each moment goes by, freedom to create, explore and grow, when given to me, is often ill spent. In more simple terms, I waste time. Even as I’m prompted to remember I have only one life to live, I’m more likely to pin such a phrase on Pinterest than utter those words in a face-to-face conversation. I spend my time doing the inconsequential and it leaves me feeling empty.

This is not what I want, I know it even as I lie lazily in bed that extra hour when I could be spending a quiet morning immersed in a book. The most unattractive thing about this tendency is that I continue to do the things I do not wish to do, and do not do the things I hope to do. In a sea of busy days full of trivial tasks, worthy pursuits are lost on a fickle mind such as mine.

Hope exists, even for us creatures of habit. Vibrancy triumphs over monotony, in the end. For now, the only possible antidote for my idle soul is prayer for a changed mind. I will plead for an enlivened heart, eyes to witness the fullness of life, hands and feet of freedom, a soul in awe of the beauty surrounding. I want the courage to pursue the truly beautiful without the temptation of returning to the easy, comfortable and expected. Keep me from returning to what leaves me empty, let me remember that I was created for fullness.

Life is more than a “quick succession of busy nothings” (Jane Austen).

EssaysMary Grace Metheny