Present Over Perfect

same conversation we always have when we see each other:
we should get together more. It’s just so busy, everyone’s so
busy. Kids, you know. School, right? Work is insane. Piano
and hockey. In-laws and baby showers and moving houses
and book club and who has time?
And then someone buttoned up that conversation the
same way we always do: But what are you going to do?
We murmured agreement, sipped our lemonade, dangled
our legs in the cool water, reminded our kids not to run near
the pool.
And on the way home, I couldn’t help but think about
that conversation, and in particular, that phrase: But what
are you doing to do?
There we were, women in our thirties. Educated,
married, mothers, women who have careers, who manage
homes and oversee companies. And there we were, utterly
resigned to lives that feel overly busy and pressurized,
disconnected and exhausted.
But that’s shifting the blame, right? Who’s the boss, if
not us? Who’s forcing us to live this way? Or, possibly, do
we not want to face the answer to that question, preferring to
believe we can’t possibly be held responsible for what
we’ve done?
Years ago, Aaron and I were talking with the pastor of a
fast-growing church, and another friend, a more seasoned
pastor. The first pastor was telling the story of how the
church had exploded, how they couldn’t stop the growth,
how it was utterly out of their control, an inexplicable,