Our blog takes its name from a word synonymous with “ordinary,” “insipid,” or “boring.” I believe our readers deserve an explanation, because who wants to engage in dull reading?
Firstly, do we actually view ourselves as boring? Well, yes, in the sense described by JD Vance:
“[Their life was] kind of boring, but in a happy way you appreciate only when you understand the consequences of not being boring” (Hillbilly Elegy, p. 33)
We go to bed early, we speak politely, and we seldom get tangled up in drama, be it familial or political. We don’t deal in drugs, sex, dishonesty, or sin as best as we can avoid it. You might say we’re boring. We prefer “prosaic.”
But prosaic is more than boring. As I see it, prosaic entails that which is slow-paced, repetitive, and common about life.
Slow-paced: children and plants grow slowly. Cortisol levels stay down and mental focus stays up. Over-scheduling frenzy gives way to intentionality and joy.
Repetitive: Clean dishes and clean clothes are the fruit of repetitive efforts (dreadful chores, but I would not wish them away). Repetition also facilitates learning. And nature has taught me that repetitive means seasons, cycles, and harvests.
Common: Chopping vegetables, kneading bread, licking beaters. Bed time snuggles, bath time giggles, morning hugs. Reading books, watching birds, planting seeds. Nothing very remarkable, but we’re awe-struck all the same.
Still not sold that this word list paints a desirable picture? Consider, then, what “slow-paced, common, and repetitive” represent in family life: Safety. Stability. Consistence. A faithful father figure who comes home from a full-time job every day, and wholesome meals that arrive at regular intervals.
The prosaic life is the life that we’ve chosen for ourselves and our family. So readers be warned: there’s minimal globetrotting, diatribing, or picture posing here. Though I wouldn’t mind exotic travel or a picture-worthy face, we’re just ordinary. Common. Yes, even boring.
You might say we’re prosaic.
