The Instant Pot of Life

This afternoon, I opened the cabinet door and slid the plastic lid into its rightful place in the cardboard holder. As I pushed a little bit to get it past the glass bowls, I could hear the echoes of my own voice in my head and I flushed a little, even though no one was in the kitchen with me and even if they were, they couldn't hear the failure replaying in my head.

It was that frantic last week of school before Christmas break and the pressure had built like it does in that new cooking rage, the Instant Pot. I was worried about grades for 4, a presentation for 1, a volleyball tryout for 1, and the end of the semester for myself. I finally blew up over the fact that the dishes person had not put the glass bowls and lids back the way they should have been and I had to rearrange that cabinet. Glass bowls and plastic lids. A 1x2 foot cabinet. Those things were big enough to me that day to lose my mind on a kid who didn't deserve it at all. And lose it, I did. I yelled and fumed and said hurtful things. I belittled and shamed. Then I sighed and huffed, acting like the rearrangement of that cabinet was equal to dismantling an entire living structure myself and rebuilding it. Then, just to make sure my point was made, I pouted for a good while afterward.

And in so doing, I tore pieces in a foundation that I had been carefully laying with that kid and all of my family. 

Why? Why did those stupid lids and bowls, that cabinet that is overfull anyway, why did they matter so much right then? Why didn't I just fix it and move on?

Today when things were out of place, I just moved them back. Today when we were having our family cleaning day and four people half did a job, I just calmly called them back down and had them redo it. And when I opened that cabinet and relived those moments from three weeks ago, I couldn't figure out why the things that were a giant deal then were just a simple thing today.

So I sat for a while this afternoon and I thought about all of it. Because when it matters, and this does, you have to find a way to do better. You have to identify the problem and figure out a way to work through it. Because you work too hard to build something that matters, something of lasting material,  to just tear it down in a moment over plastic and glass.

It's the pressure. It's the stress. It's the fast living. And it's compounded by 7 in this house. This break has been just exactly like summer was for me and for us.... just glorious. We enjoyed each other and we treasured our time. Every day that has ticked by this past week has made the anxiety increase for me because I know we are headed back into the Instant Pot of Life.

So what's the answer? We can't exactly quit our jobs and school and become hermits. We can't withdraw from our activities. We can't avoid the stress and pressure of grades and jobs and so on. What can we do?

Well, we can carve out as much time as possible for mini-breaks. We can keep our weekends as open as we can so that our Saturdays become a time of respite and to catch up on our neglected rest and relationships and chores. We can make Sabbath space for us. We can stay on top of certain things so that they stay manageable, rather than morphing into giant tasks. We can remember to breathe. We can keep the main things, the main things. And we I can refuse to allow ourselves myself to blow up over plastic bowls and lids stupid petty things that don't matter a bit in the grand scheme of things.