It doesn't seem possible that January ends next week as there is a patient pile of New Year's cards still stacked on my desk. And yet, there it is. The stream is not waiting for me to leisurely settle into my kayak and get my seat carefully adjusted before pulling me into the current. Hell no. The stream surges on by and catches me by the ankles and I am bobbing up every few feet looking for a sturdy branch to grab on to.
Or, at least that's how it can feel if I give over to the sensation that I am always behind, always late -- never doing enough, basically.
I hate that feeling-- the one that says whatever I do, it is not enough. And I share that here because this is one of the places I feel that I am often lagging way behind in what I wish I could do. In our uber-busy world of texts and twitters and photos shared on instagram it can feel to me sometimes that days without updating this blog can be measured in glacier units.
But this is what it is. I am one person and can only do so much and one thing I must do on a regular basis is sit.
Just sit. Breathe. Scribble.
So I guess what I am saying is, my priorities don't often resemble those of the mainstream and that is sometimes hard for me. And then, I'll read a passage reminding me of the odd blessing that is the life of a drowsy fabulist and all of a sudden I am upright in the kayak, heading downstream easy as you please.
"When the high school I went to experienced a crisis of delinquent student behavior, my response was to start out for school every morning but to turn most mornings into the woods instead, with a knapsack of books. Always Whitman's was among them. My truancy was extreme, and my parents were warned that I might not graduate. For whatever reason, they let me continue to go my own way. It was an odd blessing, but a blessing all the same."
~ Mary Oliver, Blue Pastures
May your day be rich with choices that are perfect for you, and you alone.
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