Endings and beginnings are good places to make change. But I, like many others I know, don’t seem to be able to make it stick. It may be a rut. It may be laziness. It may be fear. There are many things that keep change from taking hold and transforming a mundane, hurried life into bliss. Because that is what would happen, right?
Lately I’ve been telling people that “I’ll have time to breathe in the new year.” (By “new year” I finally mean January 1st instead of whatever day the new school year begins.) Two major uses of my time this fall will be wrapping up during December, and I naively imagine that I’ll have space in my schedule to relax, stretch, sip instead of gulp my coffee, and maybe even make it to the gym.
My husband knows better. When I expressed my anticipation of a more relaxed 2016 to him, he (rightly) answered, “You’ll find other projects to fill up your time.” I denied it in a knee-jerk defense, but later I had to admit that my future will probably reflect my history.
I have to wonder what I like, however reluctantly, about being pulled every which way with work and family and obligations and volunteering and life. I have the nagging suspicion that it has more to do with a fear of sloth than a desire to be accomplished.
And sure enough, with just a month to go in two different projects, I’ve already found another to fill the space left behind.