Mind Less Monday
A Case Against Being Mindful
on a Summer Day in June
I want to mind less that this book project/mess awaits me.
Mind Less. On Monday, I mind far too much. I do so little on Sundays that Monday is a locomotive that rolls in to a cluttered house, a sink full of dishes, an overflowing hamper, a full inbox, and pages upon pages of documents awaiting my editing eye. My mind is more full, not to be confused with mindful, on Mondays, even though I try to clear it before I settle into the week. I cannot give careful—mindful—attention to everything the Monday locomotive brings to my station. Therefore, today I’m telling it to hold it’s steam because the last Mind Less Monday I had was far too long ago—February 25.
What I Will Mind Less Today
I don’t mind a bit that I no longer need the mask hanging here.
The bulletin board is full of dust-covered recipes, a name/photo tag from my fortieth reunion (three years ago), a business card for a dentist I wanted to try who has been our family dentist for at least six months, a mask I used in the hospital to visit my granddaughter when she had pertussis, a contact for manure, a bloodwork order from far too many months ago. It’s hard to mind it less because I see it so often, but I shall try to not mind it for a few more weeks. Instead, I’ll mind only today's essentials and look forward to a visit with my healthy granddaughter.
On Mind Less Monday, I’m happier about reading rather than purging books.
Books, books, books! I started a book-clearing project two weeks ago and quickly ran out of steam. Instead, I spent several hours finishing Even Cowgirls Get the Blues by Tom Robbins and beginning Ruth Reichl’s Garlic and Sapphires, the Life of a Critic in Disguise. Books have their place—and time—and I don’t mind a bit that I spent some of that time reading rather than clearing.
|I’m paying no mind to what needs to be planted.|
I will mind less that I haven’t planted enough hot weather flowers in the bed near the doorway. Instead, I will treasure the colors of the sunflowers that greet me and be grateful that the purslane (portulaca oleracea) and moss rose (portulaca grandiflora) are already tucked into their hot-weather homes in the dirt.
I pay no mind to September killing frosts with this Vero Beach basil.
I will mind less that I haven’t yet started my kitchen pesto factory for the year. I will keep clipping the tops, let some go to seed, and even plant more. I don't have a bit of worry about a killing frost in September because that just won't happen this far south of the Mason-Dixon Line.
Instead of berating myself about the basil, I shall enjoy the luscious leaves of the caladiums that are sprouting and showing their colors. I shall intensely enjoy that I found them in the clearance section and spent less than $1 a pot for each of the four that now overflow.
I will mind less that the e-mail inbox is still full because I know I have extra time now that my magnolia is blooming. More time? Of course. I no longer must hide behind dumpsters in fast-foot restaurant parking lots and sneak to back corners of deserted strip malls to find lonely magnolia blooms to bring home (steal) for my sensory pleasure. When Monday's locomotive leaves, I shall end my mind less Monday by burying my face in magnolia scent.
What are you minding less this summer Monday?