{Taken in Big Sur last spring}

It is the time of opening, the time of blossoming. The morning air is warmer, the roses are bursting, the smell of jasmine now wraps itself around me in the evenings.

But like a lumbering bear at the turn of the new season, I am waking up slowly, and taking my time to fully step out of my den. I am doing my work quietly, and taking my time to deal with a long list of health-related obligations – a physical, an eye exam, a marathon two-hour acupuncture session to send the last remnants of a cough I’ve had for months out of my body. I’m working with a new yoga instructor to begin to deal with the after-effects of a fractured vertebrae from a years-ago bicycle accident. I am also back at my easel, painting and creating for no particular reason, inspired by China and a set of small deer antlers. I’m writing and brainstorming, daydreaming and imagining, using this time when my calendar has fewer major deadlines than I’ve had in I don’t know how long to simply take my time. With everything.

A lot of projects, situations, and circumstances around our household have finally settled down. We’ve had people working in and around our house since last July, and this work is finally getting wrapped up. Another ongoing story is at last, coming to a close – although I imagine this “ending” is only going to sprout new branches of uncertainty before my first exhale is complete – and I’m back from my travels, home safe and sound, with nary a plane ticket in my docket. It feels quiet around here, and I’m not feeling terribly inspired to disrupt that just yet.

It isn’t an especially comfortable moment for me when I look at my calendar and see so much wide open space, but I know in my gut how important it is I let this be, for at least a little while longer. Because it isn’t as if there aren’t things to do – laundry and dishes and the post office and Tilda and all the other details that comprise the endless cycle of household and marital tasks. Life alone keeps me moving and engaged, and right now I’m letting that be enough movement, and enough engagement.

I spend so much of my time and energy doing, and doing things in a big, outward way, with as much careful attention to detail as I can manage. I’m not one to say, “I’ll get to that dream or idea later.” I tend to dive right in and bust a move. When I refer to the idea of putting something off, or doing something “some day”, I am usually referring to taking a break – resting, doing nothing, allowing myself to wake up each day and see where the wind takes me. But, just like a grand dream or a long-held vision, I have to remember to honor those quieter needs within myself as much as I honor the more visionary needs. I have to learn how to make a commitment to my health that is as solid as the commitment I make to my deadlines. This has always been a challenge for me, and this is why, right now, in this season of bursting forth and popping open, I am taking my time, emerging slowly, and wandering a bit more aimlessly.

“How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives.” ~Annie Dillard,The Writing Life