Dear Reader,
"I used to do that and it was great, why did I stop?"
I don't know, but in the midst of this pandemic, instead of letting my anxiety take center stage, I've decided to focus on the word "assignment" every day. It used to be part of my morning routine--a mantra that guided me through my day.
I'd wake up in the morning, drink my one cup of coffee and ask the question, "What's my assignment for today?"
I warn you, if you give it a try, it's not magic. I don't hear a loud, booming voice, "Suzanne, your assignment for today is.... Now get to it and don't screw it up!" Rarely is it immediately clear to me what my "assignment" is for the day, and sometimes it's not until late in the evening, when I'm reviewing events of my day, that I realize, 'Oh, I see now, that was my assignment.' I smile, because it's a little bit of magic. "Little" being the key word, because most of my assignments are simple, seemingly little nothings, but they seem to make a big difference.
It was 7 a.m., I was in my nightgown, bent over, plugging in the electric bubble machine in front of my house. A runner was passing by on the sidewalk, "Good morning, Bubble Lady. I look forward to walking by your bubbles every day. Thank you so much." I could hear the smile in her voice. Later in the day, when I went outside to refill my bubble machine there was a small, calling card tucked in the handle of a bottle of bubble solution. "LOVE your Bubbles! I got a machine of my own! Thanks, Robert."
But sometimes assignments are scheduled in advance and I'm given a deadline. (Since I write a daily column, I'm used to deadlines, so it's a perfect match.) I sew quilts for fun, but I can't keep them all, so I give them away. Who do I give them to? I never know in advance who I'm sewing a quilt for, but somewhere in the process it becomes clear.
In one of the hurricane scares a couple of years ago, here in Sarasota, Florida, my husband and I decided to go to a shelter instead of riding it out at home. We packed up a few things, but when we started settling in our place on the floor at the shelter, my husband decided to go back to the house to pick up some medicine I'd forgotten to bring along. When he returned, he had my medicine in one hand and a quilt I'd just finished in the other. I asked him why he brought the quilt, and he said he didn't really know, it was just there and he thought maybe we would need it. An hour later, in the midst of talking to the woman sitting on the floor space next to us, who was in treatment for cancer, suddenly I realized the quilt was for her. "I sew quilts for fun," and I handed the quilt to her, "this one is for you."
"Oh, I couldn't take that," she said.
"Oh, but you must," I told her. "It's my assignment."
What's today's "assignment"? I haven't heard yet, but I do know that as I'm writing to you, I'm recalling the joy I've felt from all of my assignments.
Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.
Take good care,
Suzanne Beecher
Suzanne@DearReader.com
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