wandering

So many thoughts going through my head today. Thoughts of losing a loved one, thoughts of living life to the fullest, thoughts of walking my path. Thoughts on practical things, too, like paying doctor's bills, putting away laundry, writing. There are times when I feel I have so little time to get "things" done. And other times when I sit around and can't pick one thing to simply do. 

The thing about writing is this: I enjoy it, very much, and it is time consuming. I did it all last week during my down times but find that this week I am going back to the more practical chores on my list. Maybe somewhat of an excuse but still, things need doing. Also, a month is, of course, not long enough to become a best-selling author or to have multiple book offers on my blog come rolling in (I wish!). It is long enough to learn something, though. 

Yes, writing is time consuming, but it's something that compels me. I must keep at it. That much I have learned this month. Better to be doing it than avoiding it. Let's try to remember that next month, eh? And there are other parts to my life that need attention too. Especially with a young child, my focus is on teaching, supporting, giving. He's needing less at times, more at others, but it continues to be a full-time job. 

I am often overwhelmed by all the things I'd love to do (and so appreciative that I am able to do): crafting, sewing, gardening, hiking (or walking in nature, anyway), cooking, baking, writing, photographing, yoga-ing (hmm..), bookbinding (haven't tried it yet but it just looks so fun). What wonderfulness and joy to be experienced! Where is the balance? For me. 

Each of us finds our own balance differently. We all need and want differently. I'd love to live on a small farm, growing my own food, walking barefoot through the grasses while picking berries and sitting on my front porch as the rain comes down beyond me, smells of wet earth filling my body and soul. I'd love to live in a cabin in the woods, watching birds flit about outside my window as I drink hot tea and put my soul down on paper, sunlight streaming in with the chirps and trills. I'd love to live in one of these old hippy-feeling Portland homes with their big screenless windows, creaking floorboards and long porches, my house filled with plants, hanging fruit baskets and wall hangings for curtains, the smells of the past century lingering on in the wooden banisters and moldings and even in the still-warm evening air as it meanders through the open rooms.

So you see... where is my balance? Where does my path lead? My path that includes my family as well. The hardest thing for me to do, is trust and then, let go. Let go of knowing the twists and turns of the path, knowing the future. There are so many times I'd love to have everything wrapped up in a gift and given to me. No more searching, no more frustration. But then, what would my journey be? What would I be learning anymore? For "good" or "bad", I think I will always feel like I'm wandering, just a bit. I don't know that I'll ever feel like I've arrived at the end of the path. That's why the journey matters so much to me: it is all there is.