The extraordinary in the ordinary

.

.

“I’ve just done a full summer school holidays by myself!”

Six weeks lockdown at home alone.  Not the title of a film, but the reality for a lot of mums right now.  Dads are off working or keeping busy (or just keeping out of the way).  And there is mum with the children – all day and every day – home alone.  And for the same six calendar weeks through which mums normally get (with gritted teeth and a big bottle(s) of wine)!

One of our daughters made that “school holidays” comment.

A comment never heard before and – I suspect – never to be heard again.   Because every year that infamous six-week summer break is a time to be got through.  A time wherein activities are planned and budgeted for.  A time where bored children and stressed mums make for a tense combination.

“I’ve just done a full summer school holidays by myself!”

But this is not the holidays.  This is lockdown.  And yes, there is a daily structure.  There is “school work” to be done, physical activity to be organised, daily walks (that have become 2-3 miles without complaint) past all the landmarks that have become “landmarks” – and yes it has been “work” … but was it really as dreadful as the usual six-week summer break?

“No – not really.  I can’t believe how fast the weeks have gone.”

.

.

And yet we are becoming more and more eager to have our “old normal” back again.  All the altruism-exhaustion is beginning to kick-in.  The “I have done my bit – now it’s my turn.”  The “It’s not my job to keep everyone safe – I’m okay why should I suffer for them?”  The “we” is chafing at the bit to become “me” again.

Chafing to become normal again.

The normal that needs a holiday to switch-off and recharge.  Now looking for anything to not be “switched-off” – now needing something to “recharge”.  Normally without enough time to realise we might be mentally struggling – now with so much time that mentally struggling is really “ramping up” the numbers (allegedly).  Normally without enough hours in the day – now with too many.

.

.

I love our species.  We are genetically and hardwired to be “contrary beings”.  How we ever managed to become the number one species is beyond me.

.

.

I think that may be the problem with faith.

Its not designed for a contrary species.  Its created for a species that is at rest with itself.  A species that isn’t even a species – more a race of chosen superior beings.  Superior beings with a soul – with a before and an after – who think we beings are the only beings with a soul and a before and an after – and are THE “superior beings”.  Top of the pile beings who think God gave us everything because we are superior beings the chosen people.

So we take everything because we can and should and must.

“I’ve just done a full summer school holidays by myself!”

We are each capable of extraordinary things that we and others think ordinary.  Yet we look at the ordinary and we become weary.  We see the extraordinary and see only the ordinary.  We are no longer childlike.  We are never at rest with ourselves or each other.  We are children who are not childlike at all.

We are adults who never allow ourselves to become childlike.  And so never find love without condition.  Preferring to choose me over we.

Maybe that is who faith is really for –

Beings who become childlike and see the extraordinary in the ordinary.

.

.