This morning, I am getting ready for a short trip.
Folding shirts into bags and wondering if I packed enough contact lenses, stopping every so often to eat a piece of grapefruit.
Later today, I will get ready for this afternoon’s meeting, get ready for Saturday’s workshop, get ready for tomorrow’s call, get ready to publish a piece, and ultimately, get ready for bed.
Sometimes it seems like I spend so much time getting ready. And I think there’s an art to it.
Not wrinkle-free ways to pack your shirts or time-saving shortcuts.
The art, I think, is to love the act of getting ready. Or at least to care for it. To treat it not as tiresome preparation for The Event, but as just as much a part of The Event as everything else.
The trip doesn’t start when I hop in the car. It starts long before when I begin getting ready for it. And when I treat it like this – bringing some care and paying some attention to the travel-booking and bag-packing – I have more energy and patience, I’m kinder, clearer.
And I think what happens is I become a little more alive to the experience. Which is always a good thing. Getting ready, after all, is just as much a part of life as the things we ready ourselves for.