A morning at home: kids off to school and a somewhat open day presents itself. And all of a sudden I’m torn about how to spend it.

I need down time; I should just watch 100 shows on Netflix. I need growth; I should read something that challenges my faith, my parenting philosophy. I need rest; I should nap all morning. I need endorphins; I should exercise. I need to get ahead on household chores; I should clean and organize. I need to work; I should catch up on emails and phone calls. I need to see my friends; I should meet someone dear for coffee. I need fresh air; I should bundle up take the dogs for a walk in the snow.

And then, as I’m weighing out these options, the morning is already half-gone. I’m crippled by the indecision and no choice feels like it’s quite enough, or the right option to pursue.

I’m not good at this, alone time. But I want to be. It’s such a rarity that when it comes along, I feel the need to cram all that’s been missing into it, which is impossible.

I did have a shower. And put on comfy clothes. And listened to peaceful music while I tidied up a bit. And then I came here.