This whole year has felt like a year on the cusp. Like pretty much everything I’ve been waiting on is just around the corner. Just keep going.
I’ve found so many plans I’ve written down over the years. Budgeting plans, parenting plans, health plans, life plans, holiday plans. Any kind of plans. All the plans. Sometimes started, but sometimes it seems like they are immediately abandoned. As soon as I write it all out, I just…don’t implement. Maybe it’s never truly been time. I’m not part of that “hustle and grind” mentality that would say “make it time”. I’ve thought maybe I should be like that. Or could be. But I’m not, and I can’t.
I have felt like a failure watching those people do things. They just “do” things. They “make it happen” and it happens.
That’s not my role. That’s not my place in the scheme of things. That’s not my part in the play. Not this round. Maybe never? Not in the way they do. I am not them. That’s okay. I’m letting that be okay. That doesn’t mean I’m not able, it just means it looks different for me.
There’s a lot of quiet work in the world. In a person. There’s a time and season for everything. I’ve been distracted in my observations. There’s so much to observe now and so many ways to do it. I’ve gotten a little off track, become unbalanced. Absorbing so much in an effort to synthesize and understand has taken away from the time I previously used to reflect and create.
Anyways, I’ve been frustrated that I’m not moving quickly enough (as quickly as others, as quickly as I imagined) towards my goals and dreams. Frustrated that I’ve honestly kept them tucked away so long that they kind of just got stagnant. The hope of them began to feel stale and stuffy and unreal inside me. What is also true though – I’ve not given myself enough credit for the work I’ve done in the mean time. I’ve not acknowledged what it has taken to do what I have done with what I have had. I’ve not reveled in the joy and the goodness of what is. I’ve not allowed myself much rest or recovery.
So maybe the cusp is recovery and reflection. The cusp is a breath. The year of the breath.
Breathe for a year to make up for holding it about twenty.
I know the next path is clearing itself right now.
I wait, in this meadow.
I look back and honor the places I’ve been, the trails I’ve taken. I can call them hard. I can call them good.
I trust the future.
