At the start of every month, I sit down and write out my schedule. It’s nice at this point in the year because I have a specific and set plan. My Mondays look the same. My Tuesdays are different from Monday’s, but similar to their own kind. There are little variations, but the pattern is discernable and definable.
I’m tired of it. I still like all my classes. I still get along with everyone. I still have good days, bad days, mediocre days, sunny days, and rainy days. It’s all just starting to erode. I don’t have the strength for monotony. Working in a job that requires the same set of actions over and over again without any degree of change or variation is an anathema to me.
But, where I can’t handle repetition, children seem to be quite capable. Playing with kids is most often typified by the simple and direct expression, “Again!” One more time becomes one more time becomes one more time. It can be a game of ping-pong or tickling or catch. Children have the ability to be amused by the same thing a seemingly infinite number of times. The older person with whom they are playing often is not.
In fact, everyday monotony seems to crush older souls, but enliven younger ones. I’m not sure why this is. Perhaps it has to do with expectations. If we expect new, but receive the same old, disappointment and disillusion is a natural byproduct.
Contentment, then, is a specific understanding of our expectations. This isn’t lowering them such that we become content with a place that is, by all emotional, intellectual, and spiritual accounts, a negative one. But we ought to be content within the temporal and physical place that we belong. This balance is achieved in part through recognizing the (relative few) things that we have control over. Our life exists within a specific sphere. We have influence to varying degrees over that space, but very little control over where that space goes. We have nearly no control over what is suddenly pushed into or taken from that space. We should certainly strive to our utmost within that space, but be content at the natural and inevitable limits of our understanding and control.
All this is to say, even if we don’t have the strength for monotony, we should have the strength for consistency and contentment. It isn’t settling for something we ought not to. It isn’t striving for something we need not grasp. It’s preparing our selves, constantly, for a day in our life. Every single moment adds up to one. In those habits and seemingly boring spaces, our life should respect the fullest depths of what we believe and find meaningful. It’s important but quite difficult … much like most important things.
–
(As a related footnote, much of this though comes from G.K. Chesterton. He presented the same issue, namely that we cannot have the perfect strength for monotony. But, he asks, what if Someone did have that perfect strength? What if every morning God says to the sun, “Again!”)