[2022-10-24] Being boring
A friend wrote to me this morning, congratulating me on my 800th post, marveling at how well I'm doing, and thanking me for all that I give.
I responded that, as someone had pointed out to me after 600 posts, the milestone isn't just about how many articles I've written but about how many days I've lived beyond my unexpected diagnosis of ovarian cancer (817 as of today, if you're counting). I added that I genuinely feel that I am living life. I may not be skydiving or traveling or working at some important job, but I'm doing the things I love to do—making a difference for myself and others.
Today, that looked like this:
- taking a walk with my husband at our old haunt (Bruce Pit dog park),
- getting my flu shot with my husband (every little bit of prevention helps),
- voting in the municipal election (gotta do my civic duty),
- recording a short clip for inclusion in a charitable campaign video (supporting my emerging priority of Community),
- working on a speech (also part of my Community priority),
- doing laundry (what a delightfully mundane task),
- learning Portuguese (today, I replied to my husband in English "good question" and Portuguese "uma boa pergunta"), and
- going for a walk with my daughter (taking advantage of the gorgeous weather).
And, of course, the day would not be complete without my reflection in Jenesis.
This evening, during my daily chat with my mom, I recalled one of my favourite poems: "Being Boring" by Wendy Cope. I've mentioned this poem before, but I'm sharing it again because it confirms that the activities on which I'm choosing to spend my time are altogether fine.
Being Boring
'May you live in interesting times.' Chinese curse
If you ask me 'What's new?', I have nothing to say
Except that the garden is growing.
I had a slight cold but it's better today.
I'm content with the way things are going.
Yes, he is the same as he usually is,
Still eating and sleeping and snoring.
I get on with my work. He gets on with his.
I know this is all very boring.
There was drama enough in my turbulent past:
Tears and passion - I've used up a tankful.
No news is good news, and long may it last.
If nothing much happens, I'm thankful.
A happier cabbage you never did see,
My vegetable spirits are soaring.
If you're after excitement, steer well clear of me.
I want to go on being boring.
I don't go to parties. Well, what are they for,
If you don't need to find a new lover?
You drink and you listen and drink a bit more
And you take the next day to recover.
Someone to stay home with was all my desire
And, now that I've found a safe mooring,
I've just one ambition in life: I aspire
To go on and on being boring.
