Pockets

As an introvert, there are limits to the amount of social exposure I can endure.  Some days, these bounds are much relaxed, and I find myself flourishing in the company of, well…people.  But in the days that ensue, I find my boundaries close in, my emotions go haywire, and my critical thinking turns to inefficient daydreaming.

Teach us to number our days, that we might have a heart of wisdom. Psa 9:12

Enter strategy.  Strategy generally appears the same each week: certain number of work hours + certain amount of time in organized and unorganized social engagements + adequate time for strategizing the upcoming week + ample time to be alone = EASY endurance of long periods of time without having to take drastic ‘recovery’ measures.  I had almost forgotten, though, that even in the middle of a long, enduring climb, it’s okay to stop, breathe, and reassess.

In an effort of drastic ‘recovery’, I don’t find vacations in new places ‘restful’, because in these places the bold-explorer-Elisa emerges with a vengeance.  Visiting with friends and family does not count as ‘rejuvenating’ time for me because all the while, I find myself anticipating words and conversation.  When it comes to a regroup! renovate! reinstate! weekend for an introvert like me, I find the most efficient method is to withdraw.  To find a place away from the people who know me, read the first few chapters of a random book I’ll likely fail to finish, watch The Phantom of the Opera twice in 48 hours, spend lots of quality time with the Lord, and daydream all. after. noon.  These hours, are to me, invaluable.

He did not still feel weak, he was merely luxuriating in that supremely gutful lassitude of

convalescence in which time, hurry, doing, did not exist, the accumulating seconds and minutes

and hours to which in its well state the body is slave to both waking and sleeping, now reversed

and time now the lip-server and mendicant to the body’s pleasure instead of the body thrall to

time’s headlong course.

–William Faulkner

I remember when I was a young girl, I would find little treasures on the street, on the beach, in the woods, or under the couch then I would tuck them carefully and secretly in my pockets or my bottom dresser drawer.  Perhaps these were insignificant pieces of God-knows-what which I actually never looked at again, even tossed them out years later, yet in those moments, they were important.  They were discovered.  They were remnants of ideas and experiences I had fostered.  These withdrawn hours are much the same.

They are little treasures, perhaps seemingly insignificant, yet they are important.  They are the remnants of ideas and experiences I’ve been fostering.  These hours are precious because they are spent recounting my work, my relationships, my ambitions, and they are useful in recalculating and reinforcing what I’ve set out to accomplish.

Every day, she grew closer to the end of this and the beginning of something new.

It was only a matter of time.

–Tuck Everlasting

I’ve learned to take the ‘kairos’ opportunities of the minutes I’ve been given.  I’ve learned to not be afraid of my unique, simple, and unveiled ‘rest’.  I’ve learned to stop, breathe, and reassess on schedule and as needed.

So, here’s to all the introverts, whose little treasures are found in the shape of minutes.

 

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