Sunday Morning Dues

Sunday Morning Dues
It’s 6 AM.

A cloudy Sunday morning with rain clouds threatening to dump their contents on the countryside below them. The house is silent, everyone is still asleep. I’m on the couch in my home office, typing this after my usual morning routine of checking business and personal email, reviewing my task list and doing some Internet reading.

Nothing wrong with this peaceful picture, right? Except, how many of us remember our dads doing this? Waking up to almost immediately slip into semi-work mode because they “just had to quickly do this”. My dad may have been one of the exceptions to the rule. He was a workaholic way before the term was coined. Yet I am fairly certain that he wasn’t the only one, despite the fact that all the other dads I knew opted for lying in on a Sunday, chilling with the family over a leisurely breakfast and then spending the morning with coffee and newspapers before an extended lunch.

Perhaps I “inherited” my proclivity for working every day from him. Perhaps my need to always be busy with work (or pseudo work) was a behavioural pattern passed on to me through example. Perhaps part of it stems from the fact that, as a freelancer, I always have something that I really should be doing. True free time seems like an ephemeral dream to me.

Breaking the Pattern
Be that as it may, I remember the resentment I felt as a child, being denied leisure time with my dad on a Sunday because he “preferred to work”. Of course, I now know that that was not the case. No one in their right mind would enjoy being covered in grease up to their armpits, digging in the depths of a motor car engine on a Sunday morning. He didn’t WANT to work instead of spending time with us, he felt he HAD to. A belief that was passed on to him by his dad, who received it from his dad and so on and so forth.

This is not a part of the legacy I wish to pass on to my children though. I would hate to see them squander precious time on things that would pale in importance next to their relationships when they lie on their deathbeds. Yet, that seems to be exactly what I am doing. I’m tired of it. Tired of always having to be busy in order to feel like a productive member of society. Tired of saying “I can’t now my angel, daddy just has to finish what I’m working on quickly.” Tired of seeing the rest of the family off in the car on a day of fun and having to return to an empty house with only my laptop for company.

Be. Here. Now.
I believe that this is the secret to happiness. Succinct yet profound. Don’t constantly think about what else or who else you should spending time on or with. Focus on the things and people right in front of you. Immerse yourself fully in the moment because, once it has passed, you will never be able to access it again, except through memories. Make those memories as vividly happy and important as possible.

The Japanese are masters at compartmentalisation. The ability to focus on only what is in front of them is culturally ingrained. The lesson we can learn from them is to deal with only the most important task at hand until it is done. Put anything else out of your mind until it is the right time to deal with it.

And right now, my most important task is to spend quality time (as clichéd as that phrase has become) with my family. Time to bond and form tiny happy memories that will one day form part of my kids’ Sunday routines because they can fondly recall “how things used to be in our house”. Time to experience moments that will return to me at the most random times, years from now, to bring a smile to my lips. Time to do the things I will wish I had done when I am lying on my last and recalling my “should haves”.

I’ll see you on Monday.

Beem.