The Pendulum

The Pendulum allows me to to see the limits before I settle into my way of doing things.

If you’d like or prefer, take a listen to the audio version of this writing.

The days this week have been warm and sunshiny, then cold and rainy. Within a weeks time it seems that winter and spring are vying for their place. And I feel as if a pendulum is swinging back and forth between the two seasons.

I’m beginning to think the pendulum represents life. In perpetual motion, if even in just the slightest way. Swaying gently towards balance and in certain seasons wracking assertively towards one extreme and then the other.

I tend to seek the extremes, becoming completely absorbed in a topic, a career, a hobby then I let it go completely and the pendulum swings violently in the other direction for some time. After these experiments I find myself more balanced in the middle. It’s as if I need to see the limits before I can settle in to my way of doing things.

I’ve only recently noticed this pattern in my life. And some time ago I would have been critical of swinging to such extremes, but now, I cherish it as if it’s a gift. This pattern allows both the fun wild part of myself and the introspective calm part of myself to come to the table.

I know when I become absorbed in something or when I discover a deep rabbit hole then I’m at the beginning of a journey. Sometimes that journey is brief. Sometimes it is an entire season of life. This is an exciting place for me to be. I’m wide eyed and absorbing as much information as possible. I experiment and get lost for hours at a time completely awash in this new thing. I have so much fun in this phase!

Then, I embark on a season of letting it go. I step away and ponder what I’ve learned. I think about my perspective on the topic.

And from this objective place I begin to find my way into a contented way of being in a restful season.

The Exploratory extreme is erratic. My days are full of seeking and it’s a bit abuzz with energy.

Then, the Pondering stage is filled with questions, lots of quiet time and I’m often exhausted (thinking is really hard work apparently!).

And then there’s a shift. It’s a very real “click into place” kind of moment for me. A stage of Contentment. My own ideas seem to settle into my bones, my perspective becomes mine, rather than a collection of teachery voices. This is where I settle into a way of being for a longer interval of time.

This soft place in the middle is where I can set a goal and inch consistently towards it each day.

I can’t time the length of each period: the Exploratory, the Pondering, or the Contented. They take the time that they take.

Here at the beginning of the year I think this is particularly important to realize. Everything seems centered around “this year I want to accomplish…”. But, it’s really been on my mind: what if I state what I want to accomplish, but I don’t say “this year”? A year of time is just an manufactured constraint anyways. So, why do I subject myself to setting the timing of things in my life and business to a yearly cycle?

Right now, I am diving into a project that I know will take several years to come to fruition. I can’t tell when it will be complete, I can’t put it on a time constraint. It’s going to be a journey all it’s own.

Right now, I’m in the Exploratory phase. I’m feverishly reading and consuming as many stories as I can. I’m absorbing all the information from a class I’m taking. I’m a sponge! In this stage I feel so alive with energy. I know I will end with the draft of a project. I’ll have a book proposal in hand.

And then I’ll rest. I’ll think deeply. I’ll take lots of naps. I’ll ponder. And if I’m lucky this time will correspond with gardening season (crossing my fingers)

When my pondering is done, I’ll draft a plan. I’ll have the sudden urge — an itch in my fingers to break it down into simple tasks and I’ll slowly march my way thru the plan. This is always the bulk of time. It’s the mundane showing up. This stage is where my love for a project deepens. It begins to feel like me.

For years I’ve had a “Parking Lot” for ideas. I’ve noticed that so many things on my Parking Lot list have quietly come to fruition as I’ve taken small, consistent steps towards them.

The ideas on this list are just seeds of thoughts — desires that quietly exist, until somehow I look back and see, oh yes, I’ve accomplished that now. It’s never within the constraint of a year. It’s always in the time it takes.

I’m embarking on writing a book that has been in my Parking Lot for years. Beginning this newsletter over 2 years ago was the first foray into finding my voice for this project.

Is there a goal you have that could benefit from removing the time constraint of a year? What would it feel like if you consistently worked towards that goal each day without forcing it into the context of annual time?

The seed was planted many moons ago and the project will take the space that it needs. I will be shaped by it a bit more than I get to control shaping it. Living in this way of letting an idea come to life in the time that it needs, rather than, in the constraint of a year can be uncomfortable, but it can be liberating and calming.

I hope your week is filled with goodness and rest my friend.  I’ll talk with you soon.

Your Friend,

Ashley