My older sister thought that perhaps it was completely worth being late to my appointment to have that conversation. She talked about how relationship never really seems to know what time it is. When we want to celebrate a special anniversary, the relationship doesn't feel all that special, but at 945am on Tuesday before a dentist appointment, a beautiful connection happens.
I thought about how profound that truth really was, and how it applies to just about every relational or emotional process. Grief, for example, never cares what time it is. It will show up in the third aisle of a grocery store on a Wednesday afternoon with far more zeal than the day of the funeral.
My younger sister, who is a therapist for individuals who have experienced trauma, mentioned how this happens for people who have trauma in their lives- the effects of the trauma don't know the proper time and place to show up.
We all excitedly wondered out loud: what would life look like if our sense of time and routine prioritized the things that give life meaning? Like connection, grief, joy, inspiration, and all the other parts of relationship that make us human.
What if the dentist appointment was second to a deeply connected conversation? What if being on time for school gave way to that rare moment when your child opens up? What if swim practice gets skipped this time because your family and the other family are making really lovely memories?
You're already setting boundaries, aren't you? "Well, that sounds nice, but we can't go avoiding all of our commitments just because we're having fun!" Sure, I hear that. But why do we make these commitments? What is the purpose of swim team, but to have exercise and community? If your child is happily running around with her friends - isn't that fulfilling the same goal? Yes, I know- we want to teach our children to honor their commitments. But why? SO that they can be trustworthy, and dependable in relationships. If they choose relationships over timeliness- maybe that's the best kind of trustworthy there is?
I know that it's uncomfortable, but I wonder if we just experiment in trying to prioritize what we usually call interruptions. What would it look like if we re-framed these holy moments as being our real life, and the routines and check-ups as the offending interruptions?
It dawned on me that when we get so locked in to our routine and daily "to-do" list, it seems as if we are bombarded by interruptions. Perhaps that is just life saying "you have interrupted me long enough with your routine, I'm going to have to barge in if you won't make me a priority." So our beautiful conversations have to sneak in edgewise, our children have to come talk to us while we're pooping. You have to run into a friend at Costco. But life can only work so hard, if you keep blowing it off, it might not visit for a while.
