scribblechic

This month has been a study in contrasts; less of this and more of that.

Change and conflict were tempermental companions this past year as my husband and I navigated uncertainty with a forced conviction and false confidence. Work worries and family tensions frayed the tender strings of patience as we trudged through the unfamiliarity of old routines mourning the comforts of hope in the company of fear.

At the least convenient opportunity we leapt into a messy, full-hearted commitment to a sweet pup; abruptly interrupting our expectations with an assumption of change. It was a pinch on the arm, a foot thrust forcefully into a doorway; calling us to attention and creating space for light.

This year we have become still where we were once frantically busy with empty endeavors; attentive where we had become unconsciously paralyzed. Our routines had been reshaped by doubts and our hope informed by a stubborn complacency, hollow gestures of living shaded by misfortune.

None of this is to say happiness swings to the joy of a puppy’s love. It doesn’t.

At the core of discovery and recognition there was a discomfort that alerted our consciousness to greater contentment just askew of our perspective. In tending to another’s happiness we looked further outside our discontent.

Rather than tallying what we might lose we have been inventorying what we have; unsettled by comfort we have created sources of rejuvenation.   We are trying new things, planning for change and playing at forgotten interests. More of that which was ever-present and overlooked; less of what we do not need and cannot control.