I should be working. Instead, I’m looking out the airplane window as we ascend from the runway, capturing a glimpse of the surrounding land, water and mountains before entering a thick bank of view-obscuring clouds. Last year had several notable experiences, including a few profound and unexpected losses. On the verge of this new year, the aircraft rising just above the top of cloud ceiling, I wonder at my relative equilibrium. The largely manufactured urgency of project demands and deadlines can be addictively seductive. So many tasks await my return, offering a sense of agency and importance. It is a largely meaningful stream, these daily demands and vocational pursuits. Getting stuff done is important and fulfilling, but so is shifting modes, the doing of not doing. What stands out from 2018 isn’t the continuity of work, fulfilling as it was, but the moments of discontinuity, large and small, self-initiated and not. God is perhaps as much in the detours as the details. I want to get better at resisting the bulwark of potential guilt and anxiety associated with these seeming deflections. Rarely have I regretted whatever edification they’ve provided. In retrospect, just the opposite is true: they are what stands out, and has often informed and enhanced everything else. We’ll be descending soon. I should be working, responding to emails, reviewing documents, but then again, not.
Insights, inspiration and opportunities to create a more vibrant and resilient future.