Present Over Perfect

and whimsical. I used to believe in the power of silliness
and memory-making and laughter.
And then I became the kind of person who threw candy
as long as nothing else was going on—as long as it didn’t
get in the way of being responsible. I threw candy at
approved and sanctioned candy-throwing time, after all the
work was done and things were safe and lunches were
made.
And then I got so wrapped up in being responsible that it
was never the right time to throw candy.
And then, the worst thing: I became the kind of person
who made fun of candy-throwers . . . please—who has
time? What is this, kindergarten? I’ve got a list, people, and
a flight to catch.
What a loss—for me, for my family, for our community,
for all the joy and laughter and silliness we missed out on
because I was busy being busy.
These are the hardest changes I’ve made in a long time.
And they’re the most valuable. I’m never going back there.
I’m done with that kind of responsible. I don’t want to get to
the end of my life and look back and realize that the best
thing about me was I was organized. That I executed well,
that I ran a tight ship, that I never missed a detail. I want to
look back and remember all the times I threw candy, even
when it didn’t make sense. Especially when it didn’t make
sense.
I know how hard it is to juggle everything. I’m right in
it, with little kids and a full-time job and dreams for the