I remember a time when I could juggle countless activities with the agility of a pro. No matter how (or from where) the wind blew, I could face the new challenge.
The harder the wind would whip the weather vane, the more creative I became.
Over time the wind stilled and the weather vane stopped its movement.
That’s what I thought at first. But flying scarves, dancing leaves, and the sound of wind chimes told a different story. It was not the wind, but the weather vane that had changed. Broken? Rusty? Bent? Something was wrong.
In the last few months, I have focused so much in one direction that my weather vane had frozen. Creativity slowed…connections unraveled.
My task at hand is to take a clear look at the weather vane and bit by bit fix its frozen parts. Oil for rust, hammer for true calibration, and polish for beauty. This is the job before me. I prepare myself for the wind and accept the challenge.