I’m sitting here, in our church’s op shop, on a warm Wednesday afternoon and its so quiet. I’m a volunteer at this fine little store. We are the only second-hand clothes shop in the suburb, situated in a side room, adjoining the church. One of the hardest things I find with volunteering for things like this, is being okay with the slowness. For much of my adult life I have managed to a lot tasks to every hour of the day. Whether it be a gym session, or a coffee with friends, or a blitz of study or work. Busyness is such a culturally acceptable to avoid engaging in relationships and helping with things. And when I do help, I generally prefer it to be a task which has a clear black and white result. Sitting in an op shop for a few hours each day on the other hand can be pretty mind-numbing if there are no customers. But don’t mistake this post for a whinge. I’m just learning to adjust to a different pace of life. One which is providing me the time to do the things I hoped it would. I guess I just didn’t realise how addicted I’ve become to the hectic, task-orientated, ego-massaging approach to living.
Here’s a picture of our op shop – ain’t it pretty.