This month, I celebrated my birthday, and for the first time, it had me looking back. I admit to some maudlin feelings . . . this is the middle of my life . . . will it get better still? I was blessed with so many things. Life was good to me. And yet. I want more. Don't we always want more? Is that something everybody feels? Is that a good sign, a sign that the will to do something is still there, the will to move on, to change things, to make a difference? Or is it a sign that I've still not learned to be content with what I have, that I still don't see how rich I am, how lucky I was, how little life's capricious threats have shaken me?
I find it difficult to toe the line between the will to move on and being content with what I have. Ambition . . . a two-edged sword. To achieve your dreams, you have to dig in your feet, strain against obstacles, and just keep on pushing. But if you do so, do you have time to watch the flower grow next to the road you're struggling along? Can you afford to lay back and say with a happy sigh, "This is it. I'm happy, nothing else is needed."? Don't you have to make a choice?
I'm old enough to know it's a question of equilibrium - as everything in life. Theoretically, that concept is understood. But in every-day-life, I find it hard to put it into practice. The "time slices" when I stop and enjoy are too short. The "time slices" when I push and struggle are too long -- and sometimes, they exhaust me so much that I can't even enjoy the things I should be happy about. I consider it an achievement that I realize it. It would be worse if I didn't even notice. But still . . . How do you manage to keep the equilibrium?