By Lorraine Glowczak
My day begins before the sun rises. With a soft lamp light on and a candle burning at my desk, I write for a couple of hours until the sun begins to peak over the trees in my backyard. I complete one chapter in my book of essays as the rays begin to peak into the windows. My husband and dog wake up and I stop writing to be with them and make my first cup of coffee.
Once my husband leaves for work, the dog and I go for our leisurely morning walk. I return to my writing until noon. I feel prepared to meet my copy editor for a late lunch in Portland. She will be reviewing my work and providing professional feedback I desire. Later, I meet a friend for a run around Fort Williams – along the rocky ocean coastline. Feeling accomplished and refreshed, I return home to help my husband make dinner. We eat by candlelight. I end the day reading “The House by the Sea” by May Sarton. I go to sleep. Life is good.
This is an example of a typical day for me.
NOT! NEVER! EVER! It’s all a complete lie. This is how I wish my days would go but life sweeps in and interrupts every plan I try to make to have at least one day as I envision.
A more accurate depiction of my life goes something like this: The six o’clock alarm to wake my husband for work, also wakes me. I oversleep because I didn’t hear the alarm that I had set for myself to wake up at 4 a.m. Disgruntled for wasting two hours asleep in bed instead of writing, I scurry around quickly thinking about everything I must do for the day – a meeting at 8 a.m., followed by another one at 11 a.m. followed again by a 2 p.m. interview. I hope I can meet my deadlines after my meetings are completed. I’m exhausted thinking about it but hope the coffee will put reignite my usual spunk.
I put the dog on the leash to take her for a walk. I rush her to do her business because I’m running late and want to get my own exercise in. My plan to do a 30-minute run turns into a 20-minute walk/run because I’m older than I think I am. I finally shower, dress and head off for the day. I rush from one meeting to the other just in time to get to the office to answer all my emails and return phone calls. After the day is done, I arrive home after 9 p.m. Lights are out. Dog and husband are in bed. I eat whatever is leftover in the fridge. I fall asleep with a half-eaten sandwich in my hand while watching a Youtube episode of “Unsolved Mysteries”. My May Sarton book sits on the coffee table and is covered with dust.
Life is full of interruptions and rarely goes as planned.
But here is the deal. This is my life. As C.S. Lewis once stated; “The great thing, if one can, is to stop regarding all the unpleasant things as interruptions of one’s ‘own,’ or ‘real’ life. The truth is, of course, that what one calls the interruptions are precisely one’s real life.”
I’m finding that this is true for me. In my typical ‘real’ life day, I experience more adventures than I can name. I get to meet lighthearted people who make me laugh. I am a part of organizations who do their best to make a difference. I’m introduced to artists, writers and lovers who’ve been married for over 60 years. And, I find that it is so nice to crawl into a warm, soft bed to snuggle with my four-legged and two-legged counterparts.
Yes. I will complete that book of essays. Perhaps not on the timeframe or in the manner I would prefer; but somehow, I know that the book will hold more gravity and carry more weight due to the beautiful interruptions that happened along the way. That seems to be my real life. And, although it is far from perfect, I’m not certain I would be happier any other way.