Today is the day.

February 1, 2015

Moonlighting. A blog by Judy Cools.

Sometimes I wake up and I know: Today is the day.  A hundred small tasks and desires that have been gathering dust will be taken care of today.  It’s a “take no prisoners” kind of day.

Today is the day when intrusions of life are pushed aside to serve my schedule, instead of the other way around.  Today is the day I finally hang the painting at the foot of the stairs, brush the dog, put away that basket of clean laundry.  The annoying stack of mail and papers will not see nightfall.  Furniture will move, snow will be banished, the small snowman rug will find its way to live underneath our snow-melting boots.

Suffering plants will be watered now, while they are still clinging to life, and columns will find their way from inside my head to the keyboard.  Dogs will play and cuddle and have fun rather than just imitate lumpy rugs and create tripping hazards.

A lovely little stained glass sun has been on the window ledge for months, waiting for a real hook instead of the tentative suction cup that used to hold it to the glass.  The hook is in now, new fishing line holds the artwork, and it’s happily back in our window.  It took under 5 minutes, yet it was 5 minutes that I couldn’t find before today.

Things seem to happen magically on these days.  I could check two dozen things from the list and look up to see that the clock says it’s still before noon.  Stunning!  Fantastic!  Let’s go for more!

The two plants which require cold storage in winter so they’ll bloom in the spring are now tucked away in the empty, mostly unheated bedroom.  Dead leaves and stems have been pruned from throughout our indoor jungle, and the dry-leaf sheddings have been collected from around and behind the furniture.  Cobwebs are gone from our corners, and the dog nose-prints on the windows are soon to follow.

I’ve never figured out which elements of the cosmic universe must be dialed up to cause one of these days.  I’m not at all certain I could create one out of sheer will.  They seem random, perhaps when unseen conditions dictate them.  I have learned, however, to respect the opportunity, to “seize the moment” if you will, and blast through as many psychological barnacles as the day will allow.  How joyful.  How liberating.  How rewarding it is.

While some things that make the to-do list are annoying (the cluttered kitchen cupboard), others are just the manifestation of more urgent things pushing into our life and stealing the time and energy away from dealing with them (dog nose-prints).  The origins don’t matter today though.  All that matters is plowing forward.

The showerhead is soaking in vinegar.  The bird feeders are topped off.  Dog toenails have been cut.  The extra snow shovel has been located, and is now stored near the door.  Brownies are in the oven.  Life is good.

Kudos, complaints, or conversation?

© 2015, J. L. Cools