Different Seasons

As kids, we entertain all kinds of dreams and ambitions about the things we will do and be when we grow up. The possibilities are limited only by our imaginations at that stage. I remember at one point (probably after watching the Winter Olympics) wanting to be an ice skater. At another time, I thought I might like to become a nun (never mind that I wasn't even Catholic), chiefly because of how they were portrayed in the movies. According to my observations, every nun was, without exception, beautiful, serenely happy, and could sing like an angel. What's not to like?

As you may have guessed, I changed my mind about entering the convent and my dreams of skating off with a gold medal were never realized. Somewhere along the way, I adjusted my sights to a more down-to-earth view of my future. I went to college, found a nice practical job, got married, and raised two children. This is the exhaustingly-hectic-yet-uniquely-rewarding stuff of real life for most of us. But I wondered, "What comes next?" My sons were nearly grown. Would I suffer some sort of empty-nest crisis when they left?

I found that, for me at least, there were compensations. Suddenly, I had time to rekindle some interests from the past, embarking on my own personal, small-scale renaissance. I started playing the piano again, began experimenting with different art mediums, and returned to my love of literature - all things left long neglected due to the demands of everyday life. My decision to read "the classics" led me to discover (somewhat belatedly) and promptly fall in love with the novels of Jane Austen. Her writing subsequently inspired me to take up the pen myself (okay, so I use a laptop computer instead). If I were already a famous, wildly successful author, I would say, "and the rest is history." But that chapter has not yet been written.

It seems every season has its different challenges and rewards. I'm grateful for the blessings of each and for what I've learned along the way. Hopefully, the best is yet to come.