I'm also ignoring the fact that I've said that before.
The truth is, I'd look at the blank pages of my blog as life was happening so quickly around me, taking aways moments, hours, days in what seemed to be the blink of an eye. I'd look up and, oh, yes, there it goes—I've stopped making time (like I've discussed here before.) I was left wondering, more than once, about balance and managing everything just so and how occasionally weeks can seem like a house of cards that you're building up, up, and up with the utmost optimism but maybe, and who knows when, those cards will fall if you aren't careful. I would look up from my cell or my computer or the camera just long enough to think, I'm just so busy, I don't possibly have time to do anything else one hundred percent, so I'll wait just a bit longer until I do.
And then I stumbled across this, and it couldn't have fallen together more perfectly:
So here I am, making time again. For what, exactly, who knows? But making time nonetheless. Maybe making time for phone calls and catch-ups. Making time for long walks and lessons. Making time for writing words that come straight from the soul, and making time for me so that moments to myself don't feel so much like this:
September was a month of whirlwinds and fantastic adventures. After spending a week in New York for Fashion Week take two, I jetted back to the beach for birthdays, reunions, and a challenging but creatively satisfying work schedule. And amidst the events and the photo shoots and the meetings and the planning, I was thankful for moments when I felt myself able to exercise the ole brain muscle.
But now it is October, already, which always means a new start essentially. So here's to a Monday mantra, though a bit late in the game, celebrating a bit less planning and a lot more doing.
Photo creds here.