I’m a multi-tasker. I also don’t believe in multi-tasking. I am a conundrum in itself regarding this topic.
I get that butterflies-in-the-tummy feeling when I can do so many things at once. Like Friday, when I was able to put away the groceries, stir the cookie batter, preheat the oven, get an additional meal in the crockpot, check the traffic for the evening obligation, all while trying to keep the dog corralled and off the counter from snatching food every 3 seconds. Boom, roasted. In those moments where I can zip through tasks as fast as you can say “macarena”, I tend to take on a feeling of accomplishment, capacity, strength. There’s something about it that energizes and motivates me at the same time.
At the end of the same breath, I am the first one to say “Multitasking is impossible! It is literally your brain switching from multiple tasks back and forth very quickly, with an inability to be fully present and engaged in each task!” Oh, how truly educated and hypocritical I sound. Thank you, dear readers, for sticking with me.
However, in this season of life there has been a shift. I am finding myself more and more taking increased stock in the slower moments; those moments that are less planned and more organic, the moments that allow for breathing room rather than a cram session, those moments that allow for meaningful connection to those I surround myself with daily, but sometimes struggle with that eyeball-to-eyeball contact that I love oh so much.
Those that know me well would react in this fashion: “Huh? That isn’t you. Are you feeling okay? Do you need to tell me something?”
Needless to say, slowing down and finding beauty in the slow moments is not something that comes very naturally to me. I’m the type of person that becomes irritated if someone takes to long to respond to my question, let alone allow for breathing room and silence on purpose. However, some of my most favorite recent memories have happened in the form of slow moments:
- Going for coffee with a novel in hand and having absolutely no plan of when to return to the house
- Crafting a beautiful and tasty brunch, sitting at the table with coffee and said brunch (and placemats people, placemats!), without interruption or talk of what is happening within the next few hours while gathering around the table
- Going to an evening worship service without needing to be “on” in the form of contributing musically or having to be detail oriented for the service
- Dinners with multiple courses in the form of salads, mains, and desserts without thinking twice about what time this might be cutting into
- Blocking off an evening to be spontaneous (also, what’s that?)
Moments that used to seem like time-wasters are now seeming like time-enhancers. More than that, they are seeming essential, like breath into the schedule allowing space into the mind and the soul to be filled with what the hectic nature of this life cannot give us.
Most significantly, God tends to reveal Himself to us in the silence rather than in the screams of this universe. We do in fact need to exchange whispers with Him before going out and immersing ourselves in the noise this world has to offer us.
Who would have thought?