What Steals Your Mundane?
“Can you hurry up time mommy so that it can be Friday?” Phoebe asked during dinner tonight. I had just finished rattling off the plans for the week. Friday is the big day, a school field trip, their end of the year party, and a parade in town that night. We promised them we’d buy the twinkle balloons this time. The excitement is almost too much to bear for a five-year-old.
“No, I can’t do that,” I answered back. And also, what felt like a million thoughts traveled through my mind. Should I say something more about this? This is a profound question – this can shape her view of time, and what it means to wait. Isn’t it in the waiting where we grow the most? Is she always going to yearn for the days ahead? Do I always yearn for the days ahead? How can I teach them to enjoy the slow, boring days? So many thoughts.
My mind kept going while I continued the daily grind of shuffling plates and water cups, finding a washcloth to wipe the sticky noodles off the table.
Today was like any other, except it wasn’t. At 8:30 am, my beloved’s homemade kombucha bottle exploded in the kitchen. It was loud and shocking. I am so grateful that no one was in the kitchen because the explosion resulted in glass flying everywhere. The shards were dispersed far and wide, even to the room next door. Gabie and Emma took great joy in walking around with their crocs and pointing out all the shiny pieces that remained. I took no joy in this endeavor.
Ok, perhaps I can admit that the only joy I took was in informing Michael that his kombucha bottle had exploded. Life with him is interesting and this just adds another thing to a long list of odd life happenings with Wicker. There was also that day in 2020 when a candle exploded on our desk; we are talking about a miniature fire, water being doused in a panic and black smoke all next to my work monitor and laptop.
If I really think about it. Everyday has something different, unique, and memorable. Somewhere in the chambers of our minds, we store, discard, reframe, ruminate or just let it hang for a time. I’m going to say it. Technology is stealing our mundane. What used to be time spent making kombucha, crafting, riding bikes around town, building life muscles in discipline and follow-through has now turned into hours of scrolling up and up, side to side, as we apathetically let someone else, something else, decide where our mind goes and what memories to store for that day.
Is this it? Is this what Phoebe has to look forward to when she finally gets the coveted phone? Is this the future she can hope for? It can’t be, there must be a better way.