When I say I inadvertently think in systems, here’s one of the things I mean:
Monday I went walking ‘round a crushed granite trail with a friend. It was raining. In the moment, that was fine, even amusing…
It was only when I stepped up our sidewalk and heard, “grunch, grunch, grunch,” that my brain rapidly slid to:
- Wet decomposed granite is sticky.
- That spiky mud is now on my soles.
- These are my new workout shoes, intended for jumping in my living room…
- with its lovely hardwood floors. Floors that thus far continue to appear unscratched.
- I am not taking These Shoes on That Floor until the gravel’s gone.
In our foyer, I slipped them off and carried them across the house to the drop-zone (also mud room). And there they waited.
Today I’m sitting in the back garden with a metal letter opener, fishing tiny spiky bits out with its point. I caught myself thinking: must be nice to have discretionary time for these sorts of things
then caught myself.
Even when I had all the little people doing all their array of things, I would’ve set these shoes aside. Floor finishes are expensive! And a nuisance — more nuisance than working out in old shoes
and sitting in the August heat with a letter opener.