Lessons from C. S. Lewis, Part Two: Screwtape

Hard Choices

I can't do everything I want to do.  In any given day, I want to be able to cook a meal for Wes and Jonathan, I want to play with Jonathan and spend some time with Wes, I want to work out in the gym, I want to play a computer or video game, I want to catch the new episode of Lost or Scrubs or House, MD, I want to watch another Muppet Show episode, I want to check another item off of that 'movies I want to watch but haven't got to yet' list, I want to read my serious books, I want to read my fun books, I want to get my class related work done, and I want to do some work on that article I need to be getting done.  Oh, and I want to work out in the yard.  And the bathroom needs cleaning.  Kitty needs to be brushed too.  

All of these things give me pleasure.  All of them have some worth, and they're not all mutually exclusive.  Watching The Muppet Show with Wes is in fact quality time.  But.  It's absurd to think I can get to them all in one day, or even one week.  What ends up happening is that I don't get to the gym because I have to prepare for class and get all the other related work done.  I don't cook because I need to relieve Wes and spend some of my own time with The Boy.  We hardly ever catch a movie, and I rarely get to play the games I enjoy.  My own personal reading?  fifteen minutes before lights out.  

I know, I know, 'wah.'  I'm not complaining, I'm just realizing that adulthood and parenthood means the ability to make choices in situations like this:  where you realize that whatever you choose, you're going to be giving something else up.  Since I'm realizing that my fight over depression/anxiety is going to be--how to put this?--long term, it helps to realize that feeling the pressure doesn't mean anything's wrong with my priorities or my desires.  It's just living, being thoughtful, being responsible.