Do you ever feel like life is just one big run-on sentence?
An email pops up from Cousin, and yes, we must get dinner on the books, but first I really need to send the break-in pictures to the insurance adjuster, and I must get the proof of ownership documents out to Progressive as well and seriously, when is the raucous of violation and slight paranoia going to end, because I just want to live freely, I just want to enjoy this rare San Francisco slice of October sunshine right when the leaves are starting to turn and pumpkin-everything is starting to rear its lovely, lovely Pinterest head and can’t I just spend my days trying out new recipes and playing on the floor with Cancan and reading books and visiting friends and going on walks – and oh! – I need to write and I need to network for speaking but mostly I just need to learn how to be, because being present and aware of the everyday, of the beauty of the now, of the Christ who holds my heart being in and near and with every living thing, that’s what truly matters, but ping! there’s that cell phone again, and I’m distracted, I’m distracted, I’m distracted – what was I just saying?
Suddenly I’m my own version of William Faulkner, utilizing run-ons that last for one, two, three – seriously, I’m dying a slow literary death – four pages and more.
So I stop.
I stop and I breathe, and I stop and I breathe again.
I close my eyes, and I inhale a deep breath, and I remember that life is not one long run-on sentence. Life is made up of periods and commas and a hyphen here or there, and even the utterly delectable semi-colon – and Life is truly lived when we breathe and remember and reflect and absorb the Beauty of the present, of the now. And truthfully, I don’t like who I am, to myself, to my son, to my husband, to my friends, to seemingly every human I encounter when I let the run-on take its course.
That’s why I left my job.
That’s why I try my hardest to keep the laptop closed when Baby wants to play.
That’s why my phone is in the other room, out of sight, out of reach, when a friend is over – so I can fully be present in the moment with them.
That’s why we get out of the house and we walk the hills of San Francisco and we say hello to strangers, because other people – they matter. And sometimes I need to be reminded of that truth, even if they don’t say Hello back to me.
I still encounter these run-ons more often than I’d like – but like anything, I acknowledge my own selfishness and tendency to be absorbed in my own, isolated little world, and then I take the salt shaker of grace and I toss fistfuls over my shoulder, again and again and again.
I start all over, anew, renewed.
Do run-ons ever seem to absorb your life? How do we just say no to a life of run-ons? Join the conversation today!