The Rhythms of Life

Yesterday was my last official Friday off as a state employee.

I complained plenty when we were all forced by the former governor, Jon, Jr., to disrupt our family lives to accommodate his four-tens whim. But that was 37 months ago, and, well, I've adjusted to it.

At first, ten-hour days (with no lunch, in my case) seemed to last forever. I simply could not keep up the same rate of production for that long, and each day seemed endless. I even taped a cheat sheet to my desk underneath my telephone to help me cope. It told me at what time in the week I was 10 percent through that week, 20 percent through, etc.

I started going to bed at seven-thirty, with the children, so that I could get up at 3:30 or 4:00 to go to the gym before work. I started doing my laundry the minute I got home on Thursdays. Having to get my forty hours in exactly between 6:30 a.m. and 4:30 p.m. on four consecutive days worried me. What if a huge snowstorm made me late? I could no longer use my lunch time to make any adjustments. Believe me, it's difficult to have every minute of your life so structured that you would have to take personal leave just to mail a letter.

I soon realized that 4:30 on Monday, when I left my house, to 4:30 on Thursday, when I left work for the weekend, meant that my weeks were split nice and exactly in half. I had my home-life half-of-the-week and my work half-of-the-week.

Different worlds.

Guess which one I liked heading into better than the other one?

But, out of this strict schedule, I learned to take some comfort. Everything I did, it seemed, became part of a routine. My life became very predictable, but I found some solace in this.

I actually liked going to bed with a good book or a Sudoku puzzle early in the evening before the light outside faded away. I liked noticing the moment when the sun made everything in my bedroom burn a brilliant gold before fizzing out for the day.

I even liked sorting the laundry on Thursday nights, as though flinging my work cares and troubles into piles of darks and whites. Bringing order to my household as I let go of the workplace each week filled me with peace.

I learned to look forward to certain times of the week--when I get to open the Sunday paper, family activity time the morning when both my husband and I were home, hot chocolate time each evening.

Recently, I heard a radio program about a book a woman had written in conjunction with an Amish woman. The author pointed out how marvelous it was that the Amish woman stayed in touch with the earth's rhythms more than most of us do. In an electricity-filled world, we can pretty much ignore the sun and do what we want when we want to. She noticed the joy and freedoms the Amish woman found in keeping her life in sync not only with the daily sun, but with the earth's seasons.

Not that I'm about to give up electricity, of course, but I think there is something to that. Instead of simply dreading winter, maybe I can find some comfort in the changes it brings. We get to shut down certain functions, like yard work (not that it isn't replaced by snow shoveling). Winter brings certain things to our lives that we simply don't experience at any other time of year.

In thinking hard about the changes I'm facing next week, I've decided I might as well give myself over to finding new rhythms and making this work for me as best I can. I would prefer to still go in to work at the same time and leave early in order to be there for my family more, but this isn't going to be allowed.

I have to take a lunch, something I'm not used to doing. But I'm sure I can get some of my weekend errands done then, find a few minutes here and there to do needlework.

I plan to use extra time in the morning for more exercise and/or writing. I plan to use extra time in the evening for my children--not that it won't hurt us all for a while for me to be gone one whole extra day.

But I'm actually a little excited for the challenge. Maybe I won't have to say no to quite as many things that don't fit into my strict half-week-this and half-week-that schedule.

Maybe I'll find some new comforts and freedoms.