Recuperating

from surgery is not all it's cracked up to be. I am

afraid I have too much time on my hands. Or is that

possible?

I'm on the

third book in the stack I set aside to read during my

down time. I have redecorated every room in my house

(only in my mind, of course). Several magazines on

gardening are starting to fall apart and I keep turning

to more reruns than I care to watch on HGTV, The Learning

Channel and Discovery.

Indeed,

this down time I was set to enjoy is being consumed with

thoughts of all I want to do when I am up and running at

full speed again.

I tried for

a few days to work on some manuscripts I need to get off

to two publishers, but I found that effort too stressful.

Writing is fun. It is easy and relaxing. Thinking about

what I have written on a given day and how to make it

part of a larger whole and then figuring out how to

package and promote the larger whole - now that's a

whole `nother thing. It is not easy.

It is not

relaxing. It certainly is not the most desirable activity

for one trying to keep one's stress level to minimum.

It's like

decorating (or redecorating) a room. I have to envision

many different layouts or arrangements. Then I need to

actually make the visions happen (I'm talking manual

labor here) and choose between the most workable of all

my efforts.

Depending

on what room I may be arranging, function may follow

form, or form may follow function.

There are

never any decorating rules set in stone around my house.

I might be

after nothing more than the best efficiency possible or I

might be working toward an inviting warmth that gives

little thought to efficiency. Or I might want lots of

color as well as warmth and efficiency if it is a space

where I will be cooking or eating. And there is always

the ever challenging home office space which is forever

being improved upon in ways which have yet to scream

perfection.

No matter

what may be perfect today, we can usually improve on it

in a month or so. So, whether I am working with a room

arrangement or word arrangement, time, especially too

much time, can wreak havoc with any order I might like on

any given day.

It's like

in nature - You may have a favorite trail through a

nearby woods where you enjoy walking year round. One fine

day in spring every detail of your walk is picture

perfect, a rarity of course even in the outdoors. Then

fall comes and once more perfection marks your path. Same

setting, but a different palette. Yet all those walks in

between the two perfect days were nice, too.

And what

made them nice? Most days we do not set out in search of

perfection.

If we do we

can be assured of some degree of failure or frustration.

Instead we walk for varying degrees of pleasure. We may

claim the health benefits of the excursion. If we are

smart, we just enjoy the moment.

The moment.

It's always the moment, isn't it? But is it the here and

now moment or the eternal moment, or are they one and the

same. What is it that we are after in this moment? The

one in which we hang so precariously between life and

death.

That's the

way it is you know. Always there is only the moment. We

are a foolish people to think we have more time than

that. The moment well lived is the life well lived and a

moment wasted is a life wasted.

But how do

we know when to do and when to just be? Doing and being

may be equally important in this thing called life which

may be no more than the sum of all our moments, well

lived or wasted.

So where in

the grand scheme of things does our down time fall? How

do we measure the effectiveness of time spent still,

resting and recuperating from the unwelcome blows life

throws our way? Ah, could it be that these hours and days

of which I speak offer the greatest opportunity of all

for achievement?

Always we

are growing and changing, externally or internally or

both. And there are eternal ramifications to all we say

and do. To all that we are on any given day or moment in

time. Who is to say that eternity will not rule the down

time the most productive of all?

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