I’m a habitual door locker. Crazy habitual. It’s a problem, kind of habitual. Closing the door and locking it are the same action for me, no matter what. And if you’ve read my story in Puffy & Blue, or know me well, you probably can guess that those habits are never going change.
You know those moments in life where you suddenly realize your habit has caught you in an uncomfortable position? I had one of those moments last week. My Monday had gone so badly that the problems were spilling over into my Tuesday morning. As I juggled the Monday problems on Tuesday morning, I dashed around the house taking care of all the living beings under my roof.
Suddenly I found myself in the front yard in my jammies and robe as I watched the garage door close while my daughters drove away. I had gone through the open garage door to let the puppy out. And there I was in the front yard, on a stormy day, locked out of the house with the puppy and dog.
I did the obligatory waving and hollering dance as I hoped to get the attention of my girls as they drove away down our very long driveway. I amped the dance up a notch when they turned left out of the driveway. I hoped to catch their attention out of the corner of their eye. As the car vanished out of sight I stood defeated in the front yard while our puppy Tess did a happy dance in the rain.
I pondered. Should I spend the stormy day outside with the dogs? Or should I walk down to the office on our property and face whatever collection of men were there to start their workday with Greenworks? Honestly, as I stood in my jammies and robe with my hair disheveled from the night before, I was tempted to spend the stormy day with the dogs on the front porch.
I was started to wish I had gotten furniture for the porch, when suddenly I pondered a third thought. What if I somehow hadn’t locked the front door when I let the dog out this morning? What if in the chaos of my morning I had broken my lifelong habit?
Like a scene in a horror movie I anxiously approached the front door. My hand shook slightly as I reached for the handle. Inside my Monday problems still existed, but if the door was unlocked at least I could leave my Tuesday problems behind. As the door clicked open my heart audibly sighed.
Suddenly my day seemed worry free. The problems I had imagined I had were gone. The worry I had borrowed from the thought of arriving in my state of being at the work place of multiple men versus spending the day in the storm with the dogs was released.
Honestly, I think the puppy Tess was disappointed, but I had a new lease on life.
My take aways from the morning?
- Even good habits can have consequences.
- Don’t borrow worry for even a minute of the future.
- Sometimes you just have to dance in the rain – even if it is a frantic waving panic dance.