I Don't Know

In a fit of hysteria, my youngest came bounding up the stairs and demanded, "Where is my sketch pad?"

Exasperatedly, I replied, "I don't know."

That's when she said, "Yes, you do.  You just had it."

And I realized that I harbor so much shit in my brain, it's astounding, really. 

Groceries in the fridge, groceries needed.  Field trip forms.  Homework assignments.  Projects on the horizon.  Class syllabi.  Students who are managing and those who are not.  Birthdays.  Thank yous.  Electric bills.  Oil change appointments.  Speech team practices and competitions.  When to pick up my parents from the airport.  Haircuts.  Lunch account balances.  Clothes in the washer.  Socks that need to be put away.  Ballet winter break dates.  Piano lessons. 

Sometimes, being the keeper of all of that craziness makes me feel important, in high demand, wanted, needed, purposeful.

And then other times, mostly at the same times, it makes me really, really tired.

And that's when I want to say and think we all should say, "I don't know."

Or, better yet, "Go figure it out yourself."  Not exclusively to our family members, but also to our colleagues, our neighbors, and the ones we volunteer with.

How wonderful would it be to just be bored.  To not be filled with a bunch of who, what, where, when and why's, but rather space, to just dream and wonder and not know a whole lot of anything.  It sounds like peace.

Being "in the know" is mighty nice, but it's also excrutiatingly exhausting and does not make one a martyr.  It just makes you mostly scatter brained.