Time, patience and serendipity

For some, the juggling act appears so easy while the rest of us stand by,  agog.       M. Kelly stamps for Rubbermoon, Stampington & Co.

Serendipity has been a busy girl.  She appeared yesterday as a blog link titled, "Kim Roasted Vegetables with Yellow Curry Sauce" when I had just thought and mentioned to my son how I would like the recipe for a good vegetable curry.  She revealed another post that told me I am not alone in filling my pockets or piggy bank with tales of finding joy in what we may take for granted.  To read "Applaud the Sunset," posted April 2, visit Molly.  Please browse the sidebar links to discover her unique cards and see if they are carried by a shop near you.  If there are sufficient hours in your day, her blog links also hold aspects of wonder.

For any who find journaling with their own words to be a challenge,  Kelly Kilmer has recent posts about the benefit of using quotes from other sources as a supplement or prompt to reveal your own rare and authentic voice.  She is also offering an on-line journaling workshop, giving us stay-at-home types the opportunity to learn what she teaches around the country.

Regarding the juggling wunderkind shown above, I assumed at some point I would know what I wish to be when I grow up.  And I do know.  However, the list has not grown shorter.  My thoughts radiate like the unicycle's spokes, pointing in five or 15 different directions.  What I can say in my favor is they are all at least slightly related and can be, if I stop dithering, accomplished from right here with basic skills I already possess.  It is just that some of those skills need to be sharpened, refined, expanded, practiced.  That's the telling word, practiced. 

My mental schedule resembles that of the over-scheduled child of over-achieving parents.  Organize, straighten, discard, draw, play with paint, stamp, write fiction, read poetry, color, write non-fiction, correspond, converse, explore, ponder, imagine, sleep.  And drink enough water.  I am not confused; I have what I need (with practice) to do and be what I want.  I just seem to go about it so slowly.  Which drags out into the light the other telling word: patience.  Of all that is asked of me in a day, patience tops the list.  Over many years I've come to trust the process of unfolding that is life and know, absolutely know, that answers I don't have today will either (a) arrive or (b) won't and if they don't it will not matter. 

Taking a prompt from Tolstoy, I remind myself, "The two most powerful warriors are patience and time."  May I have enough of both.