Yesterday, I was overwhelmed. Overwhelmed, even though I'm surrounded by conveniences and help coming from many directions, and with perhaps the most at my fingertips (without needing to lift those fingers-- just swipe...) of any generation in the history of the peopled planet. Overwhelmed is a word that comes to mind frequently lately, and I'm a little self-conscious of it's overuse. Being overwhelmed seems like a luxury the privileged moan about, but maybe shouldn't. And yet, I feel it. From something as simple as, there are all these people that I've pushed into the world who want to eat. Daily. Hourly even. And getting that ready while having this little being still just weeks old who doesn't operate like a clock, makes the hours race by and me left here feeling like i can't get it all done. They all need clean clothes. The dishes pile up fast. And those are just the chores.
Then there are the issues that go on in my heart. My head. I listen to podcasts to keep me company. But they fill me with all the ponderings the world over, and I get overwhelmed sifting through them. The conversations are stimulating and interesting and challenging, but I feel at a loss to respond appropriately to everything. Especially when I sit limited by the above chores. I'm so far from being a world changer, an advocate, a pioneer, an anything. I just want to get through a book in under one month at this point.
With the weight of the wide world squarely on my shoulders, I then start to think about my purpose in life; the job I'm doing as a mother to these rapidly changing/needy older kids, the ways I want to grow in my own education, the trip I want to plan for my man, the goals and dreams I have in my own head about the passions I want to pursue. And I feel like my life is basically over. There is not enough time. I'm done.
So after all that, there is really only one thing left to do. Obviously, I should pickle some beets. Just slice into that red, juicy tear-drop shaped sphere that makes your kitchen look like a slaughter house when you are finished, and find solace in the fact that this is a task worth doing. And it's beautiful. The world always needs more beauty.
Look at that baby and her little perfect feet and remember that washing them today is somehow what landed squarely on your plate. Along with beautifully pickled beets.