Next.

It’s an intriguing little word that sets my mind in the future, but usually a little further in the future.

I don’t tend to leap to the nexts of my next moment. I tend to want to know more than that. When I was in middle school my calendar was perpetually a mess of numbers with several daily countdowns to the next fun thing, and the next fun thing after that. Generally birthdays, easter, church camp, and Christmas made my obsessive fun tracking lists

This is probably why as an adult I’ve gravitated toward long term, but specific goals – like 100 day projects, 50 hikes a year, and training for half marathons. It sets up my to-do list and I nearly always know what’s next. Or I can plop in something productive from one of my various options.

Except sometimes that’s not an option and I don’t want to be wishing through and counting down from one thing to the next.

Sometimes it’s harder to slow down and live in the moment of smallest moments.

The dandelions picked and presented in the plastic kid cup.

The eyes gleaming about chalk dust hurricanes (propelled by kid-sized lungs)

The making of food that no one will eat. Because that’s a moment too.

Sometimes the next thing isn’t the thing on my to-do list or anything that adds up numerically.

It’s just adding the next dose of love into the people around me.

Or taking a rest.

Or eating a snack.

Or washing a few dishes.

Folding the laundry.

reading aloud.

etc.

and etc.

everyday.

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My next is to focus my ‘next’ a little closer in. I want to see the big picture hopes, but also live in the small moment sillies. And everything else.

What about you?

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I’m linking up with Five Minute Friday this week on the word next. Thanks for reading!

(This is 17/100 of my #100daysofpressingpost with #the100dayproject. I take sundays off, but so far so good!)