Careful & Full of Care

I want to be more careful.

But that is not quite the right word.

Maybe “Care Full” is better.

I want to show care and thoughtfulness in a fuller way. A bigger way.

I want to check in with the birds who visit my front yard more often. Once a week doesn’t seem to be enough. Snow was in the forecast, so I went out and refilled the sunflower seed feeders and finch food sacks this week, something which I usually do on Sundays. I emptied the birdbath and brought the saucer inside to clean. I scrubbed the green growth off it and refilled it with fresh water. That felt like being more “care full” with the birds.

With Fat Cat, it’s meant scooping his litter box every morning before we leave the house. This has also been a gift for me, since it makes it less likely that he will track wet kitty litter all over the house and leave muddy paw prints on the bathroom floor.

I’ve resolved to take better care of my car. I’m washing and vacuuming it at least once a month. That might not seem like much, but it’s a marked improvement over what I’ve done in the past.

So many things that I want to take better care of.

But also.

(Maybe more importantly?)

I want to be take fuller, better care of myself.

This is where my “care full” idea breaks down.

Because sometimes the best thing for me might be to let go and do less.

That’s a fine contradiction for you.

Which shows that I don’t have this figured out yet.

It is admirable to have a running list of things that I want to accomplish in the mornings, the evenings, the week. Caring fully for the birds and cat are on this list. So is showing up to write a few lines everyday, even if they stay in my computer. Eating fish a couple of times a week. Working in my blackberry patch. Posting a few photos on Instagram. Reading a book for fun.

What would it mean to reframe that list?

To pry it loose from the steel frame in my mind and instead let it be a floaty ethereal thing, shiny and bright, full of suggestions and possibilities, not mandates and grim recriminations.

My inner voice could be gentler, one that encouraged me to see my daily routine not as a set of items to cross out, but as a swirly buffet of delicious options that I can enjoy or save for another day.

One of the items on my daily “to do” list is logging a certain number of steps on my phone. There have been times when I have drug my tired self out of the house, even after it was dark, to get a few more steps in, to meet that goal. The list ruled over me. But if I look at that same list from a “care full” perspective, it ceases to be the boss of me. I can take a walk, or I can realize that the number on my phone is a good suggestion, not a law. I get to decide what’s best for me. Some days, the best thing might be letting go. Other times, it might be going out and getting those final steps in, even if I am tired. I get to choose.

Let me grab what is golden.

I want a life marked by simple care for the people, animals, and plants that are my world. I want a life where I care for myself, too, where my care for others doesn’t come at my expense. Both/and. Not either/or.

Haven’t got it figured out yet. I’ll keep you posted.