The other day, I told my husband I was going to write about Saturday — specifically, how it serves as the weekly reset button to slow down and practice mindfulness. He nodded thoughtfully, as though I had just announced a perfectly reasonable plan.
Then he asked if my mindfulness routine included fixing the leaky faucet.
That’s when I remembered that we have very different ideas about what Saturdays are for.
To me, Saturday is an invitation to linger — over a hot cup of coffee, over the morning light filtering through the blinds, and over the simple, radical act of being completely unhurried. The alarm may still hum out of habit, but the day itself doesn’t rush me. It’s a day that lets me move at my own leisurely pace.
I picture myself sitting still without defending the stillness, enjoying the day, letting my thoughts wander, and even doing a little daydreaming.
To him, Saturday is a perfectly good day to dismantle the plumbing, conquer the honey-do list, and finally get around to all the noisy, dusty chores that didn’t fit into the busy week.
My vision involves being curled up under a cozy quilt with a good book. His involves a tool belt and a trip or two to Home Depot.
We’ve lived so long in the rhythm of productivity that slowing down can feel a bit suspicious, as though rest somehow requires permission. But Saturday brings a gentle reminder that life wasn’t asking us to hurry — our leaky faucet was.
After 54 years of marriage, we’ve learned how to compromise. He tackles the project while I practice mindfulness, very aware of every moment as I provide moral support from a comfy seat nearby. I hold the flashlight for five minutes and hand him a wrench when he needs it.
We both agree that Saturday has room for both of us — a little bit of catching up, and a whole lot of catching our breath.
At the end of the day, whether the faucet got fixed or we simply found time to relax, we can still exhale softly, look around at our beautifully imperfect home, and appreciate that Saturday gives our souls a chance to catch up with our bodies.
Maybe that’s what slowing down is really about. Not doing nothing, and not getting everything done. Just giving ourselves permission, for a little while, to stop measuring the day by what we accomplished and notice that we were here to live it.
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