It’s been an intense but not entirely unpleasant couple of post-eclipse days around here, during which many chickens came home to roost at once and quickly overran the coop. Something about these eclipses in mutable signs really brings on the crazy/busy vibe, doesn’t it? I finally got to the point that one ultimately reaches in these situations, the point where you realize you can’t possibly keep all those balls in the air and had better stop juggling before something (possibly you) falls down and busts into a thousand pieces. So I’ve slammed on the brakes, set down a few balls, and made some decisions that should help restore my sanity, reconnect me to the still center within, etc.
One of the balls I had to give up, with considerable regret, was my planned sojourn to the Blast Conference in Sedona at the end of the month. Our lives had quite a different configuration back when I accepted the mini-lecture gig, and it still seemed possible even a few days ago… but now it’s become clear that, due to work obligations, the trip can’t be made without contorting ourselves into zany, pretzel-like configurations. Alas and alack. To those friends I won’t have a chance to meet up with there, have a tremendous time and we’ll connect at some later time and different place, for sure. In the meantime, enjoy what promises to be a killer conference in what is, by all accounts, an authentically magical place.
I’m also giving up Thursday Thirteen. It’s a fun meme, but I don’t have as much blogging time as I’d like these days, so I’m letting it go.
Creating space. Making room to slow down for a little while, replenish the creative juices, figure out which way to go next.
How are all of you doing? Keeping all the balls in the air?