Instant and Delayed Gratification

I'm an instant gratification junkie.  I love having what I want when I want it.  There is nothing more satisfying then fixing a problem, replacing something that is broken or getting what you need right away.  No waiting, no working at it, no putting the time in. Not having to wait can be giddy, thrilling, empowering: snap and it's done.  Like Samantha and her nose twitch. Instant relief.

image courtesy of gfycat.com

Alas most everything doesn't work that way.  I live in a world where delayed gratification is the norm.  Things require time to grow.  Things require time to make.  Things require time to learn.  There's lots of talk about the journey. While I have enjoyed the journey, the most exciting part is arriving. I love arriving.  Everybody out of the car, we are here!

Image courtesy of Getty images

My favourite literary characters as a kid had photographic memories, encyclopedic knowledge, special awareness, enhanced abilities if you will, that allowed them to solve mysteries, succeed in record time, try new things successfully, not have to practice.  I have to practice. 

I'm currently sanding my deck.  It's a big deck. Sanding is pretty monotonous.  Especially when you have a large area but you have to use a small tool so you don't take off too much wood. I can only do an hour at a time.  The parts I've done are now looking great.  There is an art to sanding. I'm learning how to sand.  At the 45 minute mark I always wish I could twitch my nose and have the whole thing be done. When I am finished, I will have enormous satisfaction that I accomplished this goal.  I will feel very proud that I saw this through and it looks great. So I understand the value of delayed gratification.  Building a skill or crafting something requires time, effort, practice and patience. It's a beautiful combination that yields amazing things.  (Arrival! Just saying.)

The worst combination is when you can't practice and it doesn't happen instantly.  It's a prolonged one shot sort of deal where you never arrive: marriage, raising kids, building a career, looking after a home - the goal posts are always moving.  And when the journey ends with these things, there's no arrival, it's just over. 

Let's take parenting.  You pour your very soul into the raising of another human being.  You never make the same mistake twice, more like you never make the same mistake more than 20 times, but every age, era, season and life encounter brings something new to learn from and then you finally get them gracious, and charming, and responsible, and polite and an asset to society with a decent sense of empathy and self awareness and and an inkling of accountability and they leave to go be successful, autonomous individuals. It's the biggest kick in the pants.

On a lesser scale, cooking comes to mind.  Lots of practice, lots of learning, lots of repeating, and finally you master the recipe and for 20 glorious minutes your masterpiece sits on the table to be admired.  Then it's devoured, and the accolades pour in, and your eyes roll back in your head because it tastes just that good and if you are Duff Goldman, you actually donkey kick.  And then it's gone.  I've seen an entire Thanksgiving meal for 20, which took three days to make, get demolished in 15 minutes.

Image courtesy of Glamour Magazine

As silver linings go, you do acquire a wealth of experience which makes the journey less fearful.  you gain confidence in what you are trying to achieve.  You develop a very strong ability to appreciate.  And your sense of empathy is nothing to sneeze at either.  But over is over, and over sucks.

This is where I struggle mightily with the saying "don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened".  I'm really too busy  weeping, pining, and grieving over the ending to ever recognize that the journey was the arrival. 

Huh...

You know what epiphanies are?  Instant gratification. ☺

Wash, Rinse, Repeat...

I struggle with repetitive tasks.  In contrast, I love a tradition.  Tradition with all it's history, pomp and circumstance is so fun;  the excitement of getting out the Christmas ornaments; using the Easter dishes; getting together with family to celebrate occasions; going back to visit the family cottage every year; these speak to my soul. The repetition of routine is another matter.  And nowhere is this more prevalent than in house keeping.

Image courtesy of Dreamtime.com 

What do you mean you are out of pants?  I just washed them last week!  How can these blinds be dusty, didn't I just wipe them down?  Why is the bathroom so gross, it feels like I cleaned it yesterday. (I did not clean it yesterday.)  It mystifies me how much dust can accumulate, not to mention grease on walls.  How do light switches get dirty?  I fold laundry again and again and again. And don't get me started on the emperor of all chores: putting things away.

One of the many...

I wish my family were the disciplined type who took something out, used it and put it away, right away.  Sadly, I don't do that and my children were not born with this skill.  It's a daily challenge. I have succeeded in creating a place for most things in our home.  And with regards to school, sports, and paper there is a system that has become somewhat of a routine. But really I can spend a good portion of my day tidying up.  And it kills me.

It's become a mission, a learning opportunity if you will, to see these tasks as privileges not persecution.  If the sun is shining and I'm feeling especially pulled together I believe this with all my heart.  I am really lucky.  I have clothes that need washing.  I have a house that needs cleaning.  I have cherished things that need to be put away.  Okay that one is a stretch.  My cherished things are usually put away.  Although I've still got some Easter decorations sitting in a neat pile not put away.

Easter pile

But largely it's the flotsam - items that need to be returned, an article that I want to keep but don't know where I should keep it so that I'll find it again, anything that needs to be sewed, broken things that need to be fixed, notes to myself, seeds that need to be planted, and what I call kid litter -  items of clothing, a baseball cap, the odd Lego brick or toy car, a DVD  - these things creep onto my counter and breed.

This is my counter on a good day

 And I have lovely machines that help me with these tasks. I have a dishwasher. I have laundry machines.  I have a vacuum cleaner. I can afford swiffers.  I even have an outdoor clothes drying rack. I live in cleaning largess. Not only that, but if I clean up with music in my ears - it becomes a work out.

I love this drying rack so much I wrote a whole blog post about it.  Click here to read it. 

Alas the sun does not shine every day and sometimes my life is far from pulled together. So when I greet the morning with a huge full body sigh of discontent because neither one of my children has clean pants, there's a lovely drawing in the dust on one of the stools, my kitchen cabinets all need to be wiped down, I can't see the peninsula counter top for the stuff that's on it; and there's a mysterious substance at the back door that I'm really hoping is mud (it isn't mud) ; I'm going to put some music in my ears and count my house cleaning blessings.

Imagine if I couldn't clean up the mud?!