Surfacing

And just like that a week goes by and February is here. It was my sweetie's birthday (Happy Birthday, Love!) and we had a nice celebration - while he took Sophie to swimming lessons, Nathan (who opted out of swimming as he's still a little sore and headachey from a spill he took on the playground yesterday) helped me make a lovely dinner of salmon and spinach noodles with grated parmesean. Yum! Then we feasted on raspberry chocolate torte and mint juleps. Okay, no mint juleps, but still it was grand.

So yeah. This is the third posting I've started in the last week, and I'm determined this time to finish and get it out there. I haven't been feeling very writerly of late... it's interesting. I know that a lot of people write their way through introspective times to help gain insight into what's going on with them, use writing as a therapeutic tool for self-examination. Me? Not so much, not usually. I find that when I'm working through a lot of angst, trying to write about it just frustrates me because I end up spending all my time struggling with my internal editor instead of grappling with the issues.

<John Stewart>Damn you, internal editor! shakes fist</John Stewart>

Long story, short: this past week I did a lot of thinking about career and choices and responsibility and cause-and-effect and bliss and being a grownup and plans and timelines and going with the flow. And I prioritized and categorized and "what if'ed" and worse-case-scenario'ed and added and subtracted and muliplied by various factors. Then I tried on some decisions to see how they'd feel, let my heart roll around in them for awhile, and made some adjustments until it was content with the warp and the weft.

I've come out the other side more at ease than I've felt in a long time. After spending the last few months spinning, trying to force an abrupt career change that I'm not emotionally or financially ready for, I've found that by simply adjusting my timeline a bit and riding the current rather than trying to swim upstream I am suddenly able to breathe again. There is a vision, a plan, and lots of work to be done, but no attachment to an arbitrary deadline... and that has made all the difference.

So on that note, some food for thought:

How many toes does a fish have?
And how many wings on a cow?
I wonder.
Yup, I wonder.

Think about it.