A Full Life

Saturday was my birthday.  35 years old.  Yikes.

Honestly, it was/is a tough birthday.  Yes, I feel very old, but there's something more, something else that has slowly been creeping up on me and throwing me off my groove.

As many loved ones reminded me this weekend, I do have a very full life, a great life.  A loving husband, two adorable and amazing little boys, a home of our own, a second career, an opportunity to further my education, a strong church family, a firm testimony of my Savior.  My life is good.  But still, sometimes it feels like something is missing.

I am proud to be a wife, honored to be a mother, and grateful to be a teacher, among other titles and responsibilities.  There are times, though, that I wonder what or who I am without those things.  When I'm not cleaning, organizing, doing laundry, going grocery shopping, running errands, paying bills, playing with the boys, preparing food, getting kids ready for bed, working on the computer until all hours of the night...what am I doing?  Or rather, what would I be doing?

For lack of a better term, I feel like I haven't found my "passion" yet, something that is just my own, that I do just for myself.  A skill, a hobby, a talent, a "thing" that I can develop and grow into and find joy in (separate from the joy from my children, husband, etc.).  There are a few things that I do now that could fit this description, but taking a baby and a toddler to the gym in order to exercise is sometimes more work than it's worth, my time available to read is limited to about 5 minute breaks in between tantrums and building cushion forts, and I don't think writing a blog post once every six months constitutes as a hobby.

Maybe this is just a matter of acknowledging and accepting the stage of life I'm in.  Marriage and motherhood didn't come in my 20s like it did for many of my good friends.  A small part of me sees these great mothers, with more (and older) children, who seem to have established routines and hobbies and passions, and I think, "I should be like that, too."  A bigger part of me recognizes that this is a ridiculous thought, and that "comparison is the thief of joy," and you can't judge someone's life based on social media, yadda, yadda, yadda.  But just because you know something isn't good for you, that doesn't mean that you don't still indulge from time to time (sugar, anyone?).

I am not very good at reminding myself that my children are still very young, therefore very dependent on me, which is actually a pretty great stage of life to be in, no matter your physical age, because I'm told there will come a time when they won't welcome the hugs and kisses and smotherly love as much as they do now.

(I'm guessing this feeling isn't exclusive to 35-year-old mothers of young children.  Can I get an "Amen," anyone?)

This is probably sounding much more existential and depressing than I mean for it to be.  Like I said, I have a wonderful life; I would not trade places with anyone.  My purpose in articulating this is more for myself - to process my thoughts and come to the conclusion that my loved ones are right.  My life is very full. Overflowing, even

I guess nothing is really missing; rather, I just haven't found it yet.  I haven't found my "thing."  I don't know if this will be my year to find it, but I'm sure I'll have fun trying.

And I've got time.  Plus, what I've found so far in life is pretty darn great.

Thoughts on Audiobooks from a First-time Listener

In an effort to meet my goal of reading 40 books this year, I decided to give audiobooks a try.  I have tried listening to novels on maybe two other occasions, but never actually managed to finish the book I was "reading."  With that as an introduction, here are my thoughts and advice on audiobooks (with the obvious disclaimer that I speak with no authority on the subject whatsoever!):

1. Audiobooks are excellent background noise for mindless tasks. Washing dishes, folding laundry, picking up toys, grocery shopping, etc.  I found those chores to be so much more enjoyable bearable with the distraction of a good story playing in my ears.  But as soon as I tried to do anything that required a thought process (reading and answering emails, scrolling through Instagram, playing Two Dots (as you can tell, my "thought process" activities are quite mentally stimulating!)), I had to stop and rewind about five different times to figure out what was happening in the story.  Clearly, my multi-tasking abilities do not include listening and reading and thinking all at the same time.

2.  Audiobooks are great for "popcorn plots."  I'm pretty sure I just made that term up, but a popcorn plot is one that requires little to no thought process. (Hmmm.... I'm starting to see a theme here.)  Think summer blockbusters - big explosions, predictable romances.  A story that is so full of stereotypical archetypes, that you don't need to utilize any deductive reasoning to figure out where the plot is headed.  I have nothing to compare this to, but I'm pretty sure non-fiction audiobooks would never work for me.  I usually read non-fiction with a pencil in one hand, ready to make notes in the margins or underline important words or star key passages.  I was listening to Sarah Dessen - the queen of the quintessential YA Romance novel - so keeping track of the story and characters was not rocket science.

3.  Audiobooks are not good for falling asleep.  Duh.  This is probably embarrassingly obvious to just about every other person alive.  I really enjoy reading a book to help me fall asleep at night (the moment when you realize that, yes, it's time to turn off the light because you just smacked yourself on the nose with your book as it fell out of your hands and onto your face?  Oddly satisfying.), so I thought I would try it with the audiobook, figuring I would feel myself falling asleep and turn off the player when the time came.  Uh, nope.  Didn't happen.  What did happen was that I woke up at like 3 o'clock in the morning, with my earbuds still in, the audio still playing.  Seven chapters and half a battery later, I turned the thing off and rolled my eyes at myself as I drifted off to sleep for the second time.  Again, duh.

4. Audiobooks are fun with the right technology.  This is totally untested, but I think I would enjoy an audiobook even more on a different platform.  I checked out a Playaway device from the library, which required headphones to listen, which was okay when I doing mindless tasks late at night, but not so okay when I was wanting to listen to the story during the day and my children, for some reason, wanted my full attention.  I know there are online services and mobile apps for buying and renting audiobooks, so for my next listening experience, I want to try something I can download on my phone.

So there you have it.  My completely unqualified review of audiobooks.  I'd love to know your thoughts and advice (qualified or otherwise). Favorite titles or genres?  Favorite apps or services?  Favorite mindless task to complete while listening?

This Does Not Define You

Have you seen Moana?  If you haven't yet, I highly recommend it.  Catchy songs, memorable characters, and a heart-warming story.  Fun for the whole family.

My favorite part of the movie is at the end, when Moana realizes that Te Ka, the lava monster they have been fighting, is actually Te Fiti, the goddess whose heart had been stolen and which they were trying to return to her.  In the beautiful climax moment, Moana slowly and bravely approaches the enraged Te Ka and sings,

They have stolen the heart from inside you
But this does not define you
This is not who you are
You know who you are

In essence, Moana is telling Te Fiti that her tragedy does not define her.  The monster she turned into in order to compensate for the grief and anger she felt at her loss was not truly who she was.  Te Fiti only needed to remember who she was in order to return to her true goddess form.

Yesterday marked the five-year anniversary of the death of a close friend.  His death was sudden and tragic and just plain heartbreaking.  At the time, and in the months following it, I very much felt that this incident would define me for the rest of my life, that I would never be able to overcome the trauma of his passing.  And while I do carry the memory of that loss with me, I have since learned that with time and faith, wounds heal, scars fade, and, more importantly, my loss does not define who I am as an individual.

Over the past few days I have been thinking not only of this tragedy, but also of other tragedies that have been occurring in the lives of acquaintances and loved ones.  I don't pretend to know how it feels to lose a child or a parent, or suffer a miscarriage, or any number of trials that can occur in one's life, but I do know that our lives are not defined by what we have lost or the pain we have felt.  Our identity is not determined by tragedy or trauma.

Whether it's a job title or career path, your body after having had a baby, a significant relationship, the physical ability to perform a task due to injury or illness, the enjoyment of a hobby or interest or talent, or, yes, the passing of a friend or child or sibling or parent - whatever it is that is stolen from you for a period of time (or even for this lifetime) - this does not define who you are.

Is there a mourning period for your loss?  Of course.  Does it feel like the pain and sadness will never end?  Oh my goodness, yes.  But there truly is a light, however dim, at the end of that dark tunnel.

We were created to have joy.  What this tells me is that even though we may experience it, sadness is not who we are meant to be.  We are not meant to be in pain or be angry or be weighed down by grief for our whole lives.

So much of life can be temporary or fleeting, and if losing something causes us to question who we are or doubt our purpose on earth, then maybe we need to reevaluate.  It is my belief that who we truly are does not depend on titles or material possessions, but rather in a divine nature that has been inside of us since before we were born into this life.

Circumstances beyond our control may steal our happiness for a time, but this does not define us.

We know who we are, or rather, whose we are.

Who Needs Sleep?

Who needs sleep? (Well, you're never gonna get it)

Who needs sleep? (Tell me what's that for)

Who needs sleep? (Be happy with what you're getting,

there's a guy who's been awake since the Second World War)

Anyone else remember this Barenaked Ladies song?  No?  Just me?  Okay...

As a mother, especially a mother of little people, sleep is a precious and rare commodity, elusive and even at times non-existent.  During those first months home from the hospital, sleep is such a distant memory that the thought of what you have been missing for weeks on end brings tears (and lots of them) to your eyes.

This is the part where I admit, though, that both my boys are actually excellent sleepers.  Both started sleeping through the night right at about 8-weeks old (like, 10 hours of sleeping though the night), and other than the normal sleep regressions, teething and whatnot, once they are asleep, for the most part they stay asleep.  So these days I cannot really blame my sleep deprivation on my 2.5-year old and 4-month old.

Nope, my lack of sleep is completely my own doing.

As soon as both boys are officially asleep - usually somewhere between 8:00 and 9:00 PM - there is a magic moment of realizing that I am "Free!  Body and soul free!" It's a monstrous joy, the thought that I can finally live for myself.  My fancy runs riot along the hours ahead of me (any Kate Chopin fans out there?).  There is so much I could do!  Get some work done on the computer, watch a show, read a book, write a blog post, work on a house project, exercise!  

But then I realize I am tired.  And then I start looking around at the day's devastation all around me.  And then I am exhausted.

Sleep, of course, is probably the best thing I could be doing in times like these, but for some reason I just can't bring myself to go to bed.  It almost feels like a FOMO thing (Fear Of Missing Out).  If I go to sleep, then I am missing the opportunity for alone time, because heaven knows I'm not going to be getting any of it for at least the next 24 hours.  Or maybe it's fearful anticipation.  If I go to bed, then that means I have to wake up, and when I wake up, that means the kids are awake and it starts all over again.  So if I never go to bed... then the kids will never wake up! (I don't claim that any of this has any logic to it.)

So whether it's FOMO or just plain FO, I weirdly stay up incredibly late doing nothing particularly productive or even relaxing or entertaining.  And the sleep deprivation continues.

Actually, I usually end up scrolling through pictures of my boys on my phone, missing their cute faces...

Reflections

To be completely honest, I actually don't enjoy New Year's Eve.  The holiday, that is.  In my younger years, I found it to be extremely anti-climactic, and the sentiment of "What's the big deal about this event?!" has followed me to the present.  I'm not ruling out one year finally finding the magic in celebrating the countdown festivities with kids and family and friends, but right now my general attitude towards NYE is a shoulder shrug and a half-hearted "Meh."

What I do enjoy, though, is the concept of a New Year.  A new start, a new leaf.  A do-over, a second chance.  A clean slate, a blank canvas.  An opportunity to think and act differently, to do and be better.

However, before you can achieve all that newness and betterness, you must, of course, reflect on the previous year's highs and lows, strengths and weaknesses.  From there you can begin to make plans and set goals for the next calendar year's success.

My reflections these last few weeks of 2016 have been all over the place, but especially in the last day or so, I have been thinking of the personal changes I want/need to make in order to be a better version of myself.

These past four months of being a stay-at-home mom to a toddler a baby have been difficult, to say the least.  I did not anticipate the change from being a full-time teacher to a full-time mom to be this hard.  Survival mode was my permanent setting for the first two or three months, and even now it's still my daily default.  At times I look in the mirror and don't even recognize myself.  I know I'm not the first and certainly not the last person to come to this realization, but motherhood is exhausting, dang it!  The physical, mental and emotional toll is overwhelming.  The feelings of isolation and loneliness are real.  The social media-induced guilt and stress are real, too.

For me, the outer display of this inner tornado of emotions is usually anger or tears (or both!), directed first towards myself, and then to those closest to me.

Tonight was no exception.  The boys and I have been quarantined inside the house for the past three days with varying degrees of colds, coughs and runny noses, and tonight I reached a breaking point.  Call it cabin fever or whatever, but I momentarily lost it.

Two tender mercies pulled me back from the edge and gave me a lot to reflect on.

As I sat in a chair, eyes closed, tears silently falling, my sweet, perfect little 2-year old came to my side and said, "You're fine, mommy.  You're fine."

Later, as I was trying to convince a very wide-awake 4-month old to, please, go to sleep, he looked at me through the dim lights, eyes dancing, and just laughed and laughed and laughed.

First Reflection:  I'm fine.  I'm going to be fine.  Everything's going to be fine.  Whatever changes and goals I work on for 2017, it will be fine.  I don't have to be perfect, don't have to do it all, don't have to have it all together.  I'm fine.  You're fine.  We are all fine.  (Thank you, Jackson.)

Second Reflection:  A baby's laugh can cure anything and everything. A baby's laugh is also the perfect reminder of what really matters most.  (Thank you, Charlie.)

Here's hoping your 2016 reflections bring you peace and comfort for 2017.

Happy New Year!  Happy New You!

Monday Recap

I have about half a dozen different blog posts in draft form (including Charlie's birth story), but for some reason the only thing I want to write about right now is the day I have just had.

First, Charlie's night sleeping is getting a little better (4 hour stretches, whoo-hoo!), but every morning at about 6:00 AM, I struggle with the decision to stay awake and get the day started (shower, clothes, food), or to collapse in my bed and try to catch up on a couple of hours of sleep that I missed out on during the previous night.  Getting a start on the day almost never wins, and this morning was no exception.

Once I actually did get out of bed (at who-knows-o'clock), I decided that today was the day I was going to start exercising again.  And by exercising, I mean simply walking around the block.  What would have taken a normal person (ie: a person not currently adjusting to life with a toddler and a newborn) about 30 minutes to accomplish took me no less than 4 hours to do: wash face, brush teeth, put in contacts; pull hair up into non-attractive messy buns; put on running walking clothes; find watch, sunglasses, iPod and visor; fill jogging stroller tires with air; get baby ready to go on run walk.

At regular 5 minute intervals, the task I was trying to complete was interrupted by one of my children.  So I stopped what I was doing to tend to the need or want of said child (who was usually crying).  After a massive meltdown involving Lightning McQueen and Mater toy cars, I finally gave in and put Jackson in front the TV so I could finish getting ready.  Miraculously, I somehow made it out the door and down the driveway (at 1:00 PM) with Charlie in the jogging stroller, sunglasses and visor on, music playing in my ears, ready to finally start moving my body.

I DID NOT EVEN MAKE IT PAST THE MAILBOX.  Charlie has a strong aversion to his car seat, and no amount of pacifier-stuffing or stroller-rocking was going to calm him down enough for us to make a loop around the neighborhood.  So back up the driveway, back inside, back to the chair.  

I spent the rest of the afternoon and evening (and now late night) in my running walking clothes, alternating between being somewhat productive (working on the computer, making dinner) and trying to calm a fussy baby.  But, like, trying to calm a fussy baby every 15 minutes.  Not that I had hoped to accomplish grand things today, but I would have liked to have done something - for the house, for myself, for work - something that made the day worthwhile.  But, no.  The entire day was stop and go, stop and go.  One interruption after another.

And then, tonight before bed, this happened:

It is now 1:00 AM.  I'm still in workout clothes (which really just means that I didn't shower today).  I've been working on this post for about 2 hours because Charlie has apparently decided that sleep is not for him tonight (actually, I'm typing this one-handed because someone is hungry again).  The kitchen is a mess.  There are toys, pillows and couch cushions strewn across the living room floor.  There is a pile of clean clothes on top of my bed, waiting to be folded and put away

But, oh well.  There's always tomorrow.

Back to School

For the majority of my life (like, 25 of the last 34 years!), this time of year has always meant one thing: Back to School.  Whether as a student or a teacher, the end of August has been a fun mixture of all the emotions: anxiety, excitement, stress, relief, nervous anticipation, unexplainable giddiness.  Even now, as an online instructor, I think my year will always be measured by the beginning and end of new semesters.

But while my online class doesn't start for another few weeks, I have been feeling left out of all the back to school festivities this week.  True, I am so grateful to be able to stay home right now, but I definitely miss my school family.  Part of me still feels a responsibility towards my principal, co-workers, and especially my students.  I know the school continues to function in my absence, but still.  After spending five years helping to build a program and a culture, it's hard to let go.

I've been thinking, however, that even though I am not technically going back to high school this August, I am definitely going back to a different kind of school.  In what I hope is no more than a few days, I am going Back to Baby School.

You know how kids forget all that they learned the previous school year over the summer break?  That's how I feel right now.  It's been two years since I had a newborn...now tell me again, how do I do this?

How do you keep a baby alive?
How often do you feed a baby?
How do you get a baby to stop crying?
How do you change a baby's diaper?
How do you hold a baby?
How do you survive on only 2 hours of sleep at a time?

And don't even get me started on how you take care of a newborn AND a toddler at the same time.  That's college-level stuff, and I assume it involves a lot of show-watching and bribery.

So, back to school I go, accompanied by the fun mixture of all the emotions: anxiety, excitement, stress, relief, nervous anticipation, unexplainable giddiness.

Still not sure when my schooling will begin (please, please, please, don't make me wait another week!), but here's to a great year!

My First Baby School Instructor

BONUS!

For three of the past four school years, I have had a silly tradition to take selfies to mark the passing of the days and weeks.  The first year I did it, I took a daily outfit picture.  The second year, Jackson and I took a picture every Friday morning before we rushed out of the house.  Last school year, we continued the Friday morning selfie tradition.  He was definitely a less willing participant as he got older, and admittedly we missed a few weeks (mornings were and still are rough around here!), but it was something I looked forward to each week because it meant the weekend had finally arrived.

(Several people have inquired whether or not we will keep up our weekly pictures this year - and how in the world I'll be able to take a selfie with a child in both arms! - we shall see!)

So, without further ado, here is our #katiejandbabyjfridayselfies from the 2015-2016 school year.  Enjoy!

5 Things To Do This Summer

The first week of summer is officially over... and I'm sitting here wondering what in the world I've accomplished.

I am a list person by nature - if I don't have a numbered, prioritized reminder of what I need to do each day, I feel ridiculously lost and unproductive.  Along the same lines, I really like setting goals.  And while my track record for actually completing said goals is debatable, the satisfaction of having made them in the first place is enough to make me feel like I'm doing something with my life.

So, here we are, a new season of life has begun (summer, stay-at-home-mom-ness), and I am feeling the urge to sit down and list my life away.  Usually my to-do lists and goals end up being an exhausting exercise in micro-managing my time and resources, so instead of trying to overcomplicate things, I've come up with just five things "to do" this summer, in no particular order...

1. Have Fun: So obvious, right?  I think most mothers of young children would agree, though, that sometimes you forget about having fun when every day is the same old-same old.  I remember last summer I became so weary of the daily monotony - morning jog, make breakfast, clean kitchen, laundry, clean something else, make lunch, nap time, laundry, clean something else, errands, make dinner, bath, bedtime, clean kitchen.  I was not very good at allowing myself to have fun each day, to enjoy the time I had with my baby boy.  It was still a great summer, but especially now that Jackson is older (almost 2!), I am realizing that there needs to be a little element of fun, big or small, every day.  The park, the pool, the splash pad, the library, the zoo.  A museum, an aquarium, an adventure somewhere new.  Making meals together, reading books together, playing with cars, blowing bubbles, building block towers and knocking them down, running around in circles (literally - he makes me run around the house with him), jumping on the bed.  For both of us, we need to have fun - not the overly-planned, super-elaborate, Pintagram-worthy kind of fun, but the ordinary, regular, natural, easy kind of fun.

2. Stay Active:  Last summer, Jackson and I went on a 2-mile jog first thing almost every morning.  Then school started.  Then I got pregnant.  Then school ended.  A + B + C = no exercise.  And yes, I am still pregnant, and oh, we are moving in about two weeks, but at some point the excuses have to stop, right?  If I can get in at least 30 minutes of some sort of physical activity each day, I'll be happy.  Even if it means 30 minutes of chasing after my child who has yet again run away from me (true story).  

3. Eat (Real) Food:  About three months ago, I simply gave up on making dinner for my family.  With the stress of teaching, being pregnant, buying a home, taking care of baby, and dealing with life, something had to go.  So making dinner went.  It was worth it to out-source that one meal if it meant I didn't have to worry about standing in front of the open fridge for ten minutes at 6:00 every night, wondering what in the world I was going to feed three hungry people.  So we learned to embrace take-out.  Now that school is over and I am not away from home for 10 hours a day, I don't really have an excuse not to provide some sort of nourishment that doesn't come from a box or a bag for my loved ones.  So having, preparing, and eating real food is a goal for me this summer.  Silly, I know, but when you consider that grocery shopping is my least favorite activity in the world (second only to folding and putting away laundry), this is going to be a challenge for me.  (And by food, I don't mean the overly-planned, super-elaborate, Pintagram-worthy kind of food, but the ordinary, regular, natural, easy kind of food.  Dinner staples in our house are hamburgers, chicken tacos, and pasta w/ meat sauce.  I have learned from bad experience that if it takes more than 30 minutes to make a meal, no one is happy.  Especially the one making it.)

4. Create Me Time:  This is really hard for me.  I forget to schedule/ask for/insist on/require/plan for time to take care of myself, and so I usually end up resenting others (husband, baby) for the perceived unfairness of never having time for my needs/wants.  Along the same lines of remembering to have fun every day, I need to remember to create my own me time. 10 minutes of reading a book just for fun, a quick power nap in the middle of the day instead of doing the dishes, not feeling guilty for playing a round of Two Dots while baby plays by himself, a pedicure once a month, 30 minutes spent learning something new (really want to experiment with bullet journaling, would love to finally figure out how to use my nice camera).  Above all, not feeling guilty for admitting that I can't do it all, that someone else needs to take over and handle the house, the child, the meals - I just need some time off.  (The Fringe Hours by Jessica N. Turner is a great reference for this kind of self-care.)

5. Don't Stress: Hmmm, maybe I should have listed this one first.  We just bought our first home and are in the middle of what has now turned into quite the remodel (new paint, new trim, new lights, new flooring, new doors, new pantry and laundry room).  We are supposed to be moving out of our current house and into the new one in two weeks.  I am about 30 weeks pregnant.  My 2-year old constantly runs away from me in public places (just yesterday at Wal-mart, no joke, he ran from the food aisles all the way to the opposite end of the store to the sporting goods section as I waddled behind him, softly yelling at him to stop, which he never did).  I am facilitating two sections of an online basic writing course for BYU-Idaho (20+ hours of work per week).  Stressing out comes fairly natural to me, so yet one more challenge.  I might need to have this tattooed on my forehead...

Or I just need to remember to have fun.  Which includes lots of "jump-a, jump-a!" on mommy's bed.

Finding Balance

I am an amateur practioner of yoga. Actually, I don't know if following a 30-minute workout DVD once every couple of weeks constitutes as "doing" yoga, but whatever.  The few times a month that I break out the mat and work on my sun salutations, I reflect on the connections between the practice of yoga and struggles of everyday life: concentrate on your breathing, focus on your center,  reach out, and above all, find your balance.

Back in the day, I used to carry a pocket Moleskine journal in my purse, a place to write down lists, notes and thoughts.  Several years ago, I was visiting my oldest sister (a certified yoga instructor), and she led the family through a beginner's yoga class.  While talking us through the various poses, she said something that I wrote down later in my little journal, something that has stayed with me over the years: Balance is not the absence of movement.

I often have the mindset that "balance" in my life means that each responsibility (family, home, work,  health, church, etc.) is given equal time and weight, that each day is filled with equal measures of all activities.  To achieve ultimate balance, I need to accomplish tasks in each category on a consistent daily basis.  Anything less than that, and life is "out of balance" - a place where chaos and depression reign supreme.

Obviously, the only result of the above mindset is frustration and exhaustion.  And this is where my sister's words of wisdom have had so much impact on me.  Achieving balance in life necessarily requires movement: small daily adjustments, give and take, back and forth, trial and error, success and failure.

This realization has been transformative for me.  Finding and maintaining balance, then, is not a magical one time deal and Voila! You're life is balanced!  No; it's a work in progress.  It's a daily practice, a daily exercise in experimenting and figuring out what works and what doesn't.  And on the days when you find out what doesn't work, it's okay!  This thought gives you permission to fail, so long as you use those failures as the momentum to move you to a better place.

This thought also allows for those imperfections that so easily weigh on your shoulders and drag you down.  It's okay to not be perfect.  It's okay to not do all the things, all the time.  It's okay to let someone else take care of it.  It's okay to exercise one day and not the next.  It's okay to go to bed without having picked up all the toys in the house.  It's okay to leave the clean clothes in the basket for a day or two.  Or three.  (Or four.)

It's okay to work late sometimes because baby knows you love him, and you will have time together later.  It's also okay to not work late sometimes because your students know you love them, and you will have time to grade later.

The seasons of life are constantly changing, too, so what was important during one time period may not be important in another.  The activity or responsibility just simply gets put aside for a time or slowly phased out.

I guess the key word in that phrase is really movement.  As long as you are moving, hopefully forward and in a good direction, everything will be okay.

I will start my fifth year of teaching on Tuesday, and in years past finding the balance between the demands of work and home, others and self has been overwhelming, and at times seemingly unattainable. I am now looking forward to working on finding that balance each day.

I'm also looking forward to improving my Tree Pose.  It needs a lot of work...