Remember the episode of the West Wing where CJ Cregg insists that you can balance an egg on its end, but only at the EXACT moment of the vernal equinox? Every year I intend to try this. Today the equinox was at 11:57 AM. I had good intentions, but ended up going out for lunch with my special guy and forgot to bring an egg.
The interwebz informs me you actually can balance an egg on end – and not just today but any day – as long as you are patient. Aha! That’s the problem. I am not a patient person. So enjoy a picture I took of eggs laying on their sides.
I am a huge fan of spring and the equinox in particular, despite my lack of egg balancing patience. Darkness and light are in balance, there is new growth and a return of energy. I’ve been in a bit of a funk for the past few months (see Monday’s post), not particularly unhappy but not particularly happy, either. I did a lot of pondering and waiting over the winter, and while these are normal – and often useful – periods, I am also impatient enough (see above) that the stillness of winter didn’t sit well with me.
But now I’ve taken steps to make writing a much larger part of my life, I’ve figured out some goals and am incredibly optimistic and excited about where these paths might lead. The second draft of my novel is finally (finally!) chugging along.
I’m also learning some patience, too. For awhile, I was blah that writing wasn’t panning out as quickly as I desired. I created a blog, for goodness sake! I decided that writing was my vocation! Shouldn’t all my wildest dreams immediately come true?
That’s not how life works, of course. And sometimes our best-laid plans can be cruelly undermined. Life is precious, and I’m happy that today I realize it. I’m also thankful that I have so much time to sit and look out my window, to scribble in a journal and send loooooong emails to friends who are kind enough to reply (especially when they are having exciting overseas adventures). This reflection has helped me find my own sense of balance as I move forward, which is perhaps the greatest gift of sabbatical.