I'm not entirely sure where this week has gone. Days rushed past like water streaming through my open fingers, and somehow I've crossed off another entire row on the calendar. In the midst of all the hustle at home and work, odd as it might sound, one thing that's grounded me is corn.
You see, late this summer, my in-laws and I husked, cooked, and froze two bushels of corn to use during the winter months. Yes, on that lazy August afternoon as I sat on a lawn chair shucking corn in that humid garage as my kids ran outside and colored with chalk on the driveway, I perceptively sensed that my future self would one day look back at my past corn-husking self with gratitude for such thoughtfulness and advanced planning.
Way to go, Past-Tense, Corn-Husking Robin, you really helped me out of a culinary pinch during this busy and blustery week in February.
(You're looking at me funny. Are you suggesting that you don't divide yourself into tenses? If this is the case, let me recommend that you momentarily tap into your inner Dwight Schrute and watch this clip.)
Anytime I'm tempted to give up, I think of how much my future self will appreciate if I push ahead. Do I want to leave the dishwasher full instead of emptying it before going to bed? Do I want to leave all the papers to grade over the weekend instead of knocking out ten of them today? Do I want to let the load of laundry wrinkle in the dryer instead of folding it immediately?
Yes, sometimes I do want to leave it all -- to walk away from the mess and the work, to deal with it tomorrow. (And, let's be honest, sometimes I do.)
But, the corn has taught me something: It feels much better to be prepared. I'm coming to view those moments of advanced thoughtfulness as acts of kindness to myself, not merely doing a chore.
After all, as Dwight says, you'll thank me later.