Just living.

Our friends, Mary and Claudia, camped for a summer while they scoped out their new property and made plans for a permanent building. Claudia said It's okay, the camping, but you spend all your time just living. We knew what she meant. The cooking takes longer, the clean-up takes longer, YOUR clean-up takes longer. Even toileting requires preparation. Short-term, that's refreshing and fun. Long-term, you're down on Maslow's bottom floor with homeostasis and excretion.

A few nights ago, the rain came in sideways again. Opportunity! The mystery leak on the wall revealed another of its secrets, but there was nothing to be done about it until the weather cleared up. So, I laid on the bed and stared at the ceiling while containing the damage - it was just like my first marriage. And I thought about the concept of "just living." Yes, I could have been writing a blog post, or surfing, or reading a book, or any other thing that shows I'm a self-actualized woman balancing on the tip of a pyramid. Instead, I was fully involved in preserving shelter. And, because it's not how I spend 23 hours of my day, it was a great time.

Later, when Annie examined the situation and made some repairs, all was well in the cave. Dino was in, the cat was out, and we were "just living."