Season change always reminds me that even though we pretend that time is linear (which is a Very European Concept), that time is also cyclical. And relational. I try my best to be on time, and I usually get it right. And most of the time when I don’t, it’s simply because I didn’t want to/ couldn’t rush through something relational.
It’s been a bit over two years since the WHO declared us to be in a pandemic. Who knew that it would drag on as long as it did?!? Two weeks ago marked my first travel for a professional meeting since that declaration occurred. The good: It was amazing to see some people in person and spend time with some folks whose brilliance I find irresistible. The bad: I had a migraine after a long travel day with a late night. I’m interpreting that as I just don’t travel like I used to, which is honestly fair now that I’m in my mid-fifties. The curious: As much as I loved being back in a congregate setting, I’m realizing that I’m simply not willing to exhaust myself with my Spring travel shenanigans in the same way that I was even 5 years ago. TL,DR: I’ll be making strategic choices about April professional meetings going forward because there are, quite simply, too many of them.
A colleague made my day on Friday when he mentioned a quote that I recently had on my office door because it helped him reframe…so I figured I would share it here. “Joy is the oxygen for doing hard things.” (Gary Haugen, with a HT: Kate Bowler) Or, as I’ve said for years with regard to running, I GET to do this. It applies to all areas of our lives.
Confession: I finally have dug into why writing hasn’t happened as much as I intend, and I think I finally figured it out…writing (at least for me) is putting my voice out there. And when one writes on the stuff I tend to write on, it can be pretty vulnerable. I’ve not been in a space personally for the last couple of years (*before* the pandemic declaration, so don’t blame that unfairly) that I’ve felt powerful enough to share my voice. I think I’ve finally sorted through that fragile place and am ready to get my voice going again because I realize that it does matter. As Madeline L’Engle wrote, “Our truest response to the irrationality of the world is to paint or sing or write.” The world remains incredibly irrational, and I’m ready to respond to that again.