This is what I am daydreaming about this morning

Early this year I resolved to spend just a few minutes each day collecting my thoughts. That's a really good idea. I wish I had the time for it. How does life go by so quickly? The days, filled with waking up, getting ready for work, saving the world, driving home, making dinner, cleaning up, getting kids ready for bed, collapsing into bed myself, just meld one into another. It sounds like I am complaining. I am not. I am ok with the fact that this stuff, this mundane, ordinary stuff, is what comprises most of life. I like ordinary. This is the person, after all, who could be content with oatmeal for breakfast every single day. Really. I prefer plain white t-shirts and jeans and boots to most other options. Simple. Streamlined.

But ordinary.

Which is not really a segue for anything, but since I am indulging myself in a stream of consciousness, I guess it's not necessary to move smoothly from one unrelated thought to another. I suppose my larger point is that I become so focused on the present and experiencing the realities of life that I don't often have time to sit down and let my thoughts stream out of me. And then sometimes they bubble to the surface without me being ready for them and just like so much else in life, suddenly they are real and here and I must deal with them just like I deal with an empty gas tank or a fussy toddler. With attentiveness and a sense of presence.

By my calculations my life and many others is 70 percent monotony and 30 percent other stuff: vacations, adventures, time with friends and family and fun stuff. I know that many people live for that 30 percent. I try not to. Not because I don't enjoy it, but because I don't want to miss out on what makes up the majority of my life- eating dinner together, wiping kids faces, sending emails to colleagues, pumping gas, going to the library. Sure, the fun stuff can be the most memorable, but the ordinary stuff is the most prevalent. Life is what we are experiencing right this very moment, with noisy construction equipment outside the window, and the phone ringing and a small yappy dog sleeping with his head on my lap. Sometimes it isn't all that great. But sometimes it is. And it is always right now.

But sometimes I daydream.

With chickens roaming the yard and an overflowing garden bursting with tomatoes and green beans and fresh baked bread coming out of the oven. I dream of wandering the path that leads to a thicket of wild berries and picking buckets of berries for a pie.

I dream of running long distances on winding forested trails, and of taking cross country bike trips with not much more than a sleeping bag and tent.

And this is what I am daydreaming about this morning.