I have passed the last few months in some sort of search for balance. I have not been very successful in the traditional sense of the word. I have swung wildly between taking on too much and being unable to cope with the repercussions. But I have learned a lot which makes me think that this time, like all experiences, was not wasted. While this post will include some aspects of writing since it is part of my life, it will be more the musing about balance. I will make the next one more word centred.
I am taking part in a book club, no surprise there. We are studying Sheila Watt-Cloutier’s book The Right to be Cold. She made a comment in the last chapter we studied that resonated with me. “This marked the point at which my life’s work found me. (pg 123)” I think many of us seek this kind of conviction in our lives. No matter what job we do, we wonder if it’s the right one for us. If it is stimulating enough, pays enough, is what we were meant to do. I have wondered and continue to question my own career choices this way. But what if, instead of wondering all the time whether we are going to find fulfillment in the position that pays, we look at our lives in a broader sense. I suppose that’s what I’ve been doing the last couple of months. I have no answers but I have been thinking. Too much at times. I think the approach has to be holistic. I don’t mean a religious or extremist fashion. Just that in order to address anything, you have to look at the bigger picture. I can now very easily list out all of the things that need to be done to meet this kind of approach in my own life. What I haven’t yet figured out is how to find my balance in it. I took on too much and my writing was the first thing to slide to a back burner. An unacceptable arrangement. So how does one not only recognize their life’s work, but honour it as a piece of the rich pageantry of their life? I do not have the answer to that. Simply more digression and description of the struggle. My solace comes in my understanding of what I am meant to do, even if I have not figured out to do it the best of my abilities. I must honour my muse but I cannot make a sacrifice of the rest of my life. It would not be a good enough one. The offering must be a rich life made use of in each word that I bring to paper. So perhaps all of this is simply a call to action for myself. To honour my life’s work. To find a balance in what I do with the time given to me. To create a full life and to distill it on the page. To make art from the mundane. To share some of the beauty that I see with myself and with you, my reader.
“We know that all endeavor is art, when rendered with conviction” – Charles De Lint