Day 7 - 8 - 9  of 42

All work and no play makes Beverly a dull girl

True, funny story - I posted on face book that all work and no play was making me a dull girl.
My 14 year old grandson, Axel Henry, a brilliant, amazing, kid, posted back

" It made you a dull girl a while ago, grandma bevy" 

I laughed out loud.  Belly laughed. 
How wonderful to have a grandson who banters, who is witty, who is so comfortable in our relationship that he can push the envelope - just a little but is in fact, loving and respectful, and funny.

But.....

If there is a grain of truth in every thing, what is the grain of truth in this silly little bit of Facebook banter?

Am I all work and no play? Am I, heaven forbid, dull?

I made a committment to make intentional choices for 42 days and see what I learned in that time and if my choices serve my purpose.

I spent days 7, 8 and 9 of 42 Days choosing to work - (with a broken toe ). I worked extra hours in other departments taking away from time to write, to rest, to go to church even. Why?

The truth is I was scheduled to work a four day stretch to accomodate vacation time coming up.
The truth is we were very short staffed and had a heavy census.  And so in spite of the stretch ahead, I worked even more - for not enough more money.- and gave up plans to do other things. Why? To help out the people I work with day to day.  To serve the purpose of honoring my committment  - and habit - of service to others where I can when I can. 

The bigger question , the one I am spending 42 days examining, is - did this choice serve my here and now 62 year old purpose?   Was there a better choice? Is there another calling for my time and talents as I turn 63 and 64 and 65..... or are these in fact good, honorable, worthy choices that I make? 

Now there are choices in choices.  In spite of the extra time, I continued to make better choices on what I was going to eat, I kept some other committments and I did write every day with the writing coach, just not here.  I slept in when I could and I slathered that toe that was working way too hard with soothing balms when it wasn't shoved in a shoe. And I breathed in awareness.

Oh, and I laughed, out loud, long and hard, when I read my dear, sweet Axel's reply.

I will show him. He is coming here next week.  He will not find a dull gramma bevy, but a sparlking diamond of a old broad.  I choose that.