I am still trying to figure out this balance thing. Just like a second child, a new job can throw things into a bit of a tailspin. How hard can it be to go from working 3 days a week to 6? Turns out, very. Seems I got attached to having my house in order (somewhat), running (a lot), having non-frozen groceries in the house, writing, reading, and being the boss of my own time.
This week we had a snow day and I spent a glorious morning reading a murder/mystery. The book was by a Scottish author whose protagonist was a bit rough and the phrases "wanker" and "cocked-up" were used liberally throughout the book. I think I could do OK in a pub in London now. I want to go to London and try. And that is what being out of balance feels like. You don't have time to read and dream about how your life intersects with wounded detectives from Edinburgh. Maybe that is a luxury none of us can afford as parents who are worrying about the economy and our kid's college funds and mortgage rates and all manner of grown up business. But I think not. I think we have to read and snowshoe and make collages and remember....remember the gift of time.