Home Life
This past weekend was one of the best in recent memory and it all happened completely by accident, without an ounce of my planning or intervention. It was one of those rare weekends that completely fills you up and sends you rocketing into the week without a concern for the work ahead. So what was so magical about it? What did we do that was so perfect? Not much at all, actually. It consisted entirely of elements that should be quite ordinary but are far too infrequent for my taste: lots of play-time with Veronika, some quiet time with Dinka, a little manual labor around the house, a couple of good movies and a tasty recipe.
I often fall into the trap of being too task-oriented and focused on accomplishments, feeling the need to check something off of one of my numerous checklists even (especially?) in my time off. Yet whenever I spend a big block of time at home, I realize how skewed my perspective has become. Two days spent around the house with my family can be better than any urban or rural adventure. I know it's better for me.
That's the kind of stuff that makes me realize why I go to work every day. It's also what makes it so hard to leave every morning.