It has been snowing lightly off and on for weeks.  Months, I believe. Forever, in fact.  Which is enough to drive anyone a little crazy, especially toward the tail end of a long Maine winter.  But another kind of flurry is complicating things too: a work-flurry.

I’m someone who has always sought and valued routine, even though I’m a little bored by it.  My preferred mode of living is comfortable routine with fun variations and surprises.  So why, you might ask, am I pursuing this life of writing and teaching and consulting?  I guess because the pull and excitement of those fields, coupled with the attraction of time with kids, just seem more magnetic right now than the security that used to be so vital.  Last week I felt comfortable with that.  This week, with all of the following things happening, it seems a little nutty:

1. two offers to teach courses at area colleges over the summer;
2. one possible collaborative book project to develop and write;
3. one academic book chapter awaiting final comments from the editors;
4. one article to write for the very cool L/A Magazine;
5. one fabulous blog to develop and maintain;
6. one other blog I’ve been itching to start;
7. one gardening workshop to host for local folks;
8. one GARDEN to plan and plant (seed-starting only at this stage, but still);
9. one board committee meeting to chair; one larger board meeting to attend;
10. one book discussion session to facilitate in a monthly meeting at our public library;
11. one book discussion series to plan for the fall for the library/Maine Humanities Council;
12. the usual array of doctor’s appointments and work-related travel and family life to manage.

And this Sunday is the changeover to daylight savings time.  Which is nice, because it will mean that the baby gets up at 3:30 instead of 4:30 am.  So we’ve got that going for us.

Seriously, why do we do what we do, especially when it’s volunteer or really low-paid?  For me: I’m itching to make these things work.  I’m in the relationship-building phase of a number of initiatives and it all seems worth it right now.  What are the things that pull you in many directions?  How do you manage their competing priorities?  And how do you stay sane during it?  It’s like the snow at this time of year, isn’t it: you never quite know what those clouds will produce, and you surely don’t know if it’ll stick.  But you know that seasons are changing and you know you can’t stop time, so at some point you just hold out your hands and try to  be grateful for what lands.