For months now I have floated along on my own little cloud of happy. I’ve caught myself smiling like a loon at the oddest of times – 2am while dealing with a toddler diaper emergency for example – buoyed along on all the joy that permeates my life.
At long last I had found a balance of sorts and I was happy. Truly, undeniably, nothing-could-get-me-down happy.
Mornings were spent working on my novel, feeling fulfilled creatively. Afternoons were spent working at Tiny Prints, feeling fulfilled professionally. Evenings were spent with my family, feeling fulfilled on a personal level. And every other night were spend pounding the pavement in increasingly long runs, feeling fulfilled on a physical level.
True balance. Reached after years of trying to find it.
But as we all know, balance is a precarious thing. I took on a new responsibility, then another, and before I knew it my novel had fallen off the “Recent Items” list in my computer’s start-up menu. And I still didn’t find time to get back to it.
It’s been well over two weeks since I found the time to work on it. It’s been well over two weeks since I’ve been scrambling to once again keep all the pieces in the air.
I don’t like it.
I miss feeling happy all the time. I miss being content with my life.
I need all the pieces to be in place to feel balanced. If I’m not tapping into my creative side and giving it free reign, nothing else feels right and my self esteem starts to take a hit. Everything else goes downhill fast after that.
Now that I’ve experienced the sweet taste of balance I want it again.
The insanity comes to something of a close tomorrow. Starting Monday I’m going back to my mornings at Starbucks, afternoons at work routine. With my new blog-every-other-day schedule I’m opening up every other evening for some of the work that has been taking up my morning novel editing time.
I will get the balance back, and with it my happy goofy smile. Even during middle of the night wakings.