the winter of my discontent

It has been many months since I have returned to my faithful blog. Upon reading my last post, one could easily surmise that I had shut myself away in order to deal with the grief associated with the loss of my father, but I did not. I know enough about grief to know that people will deal with it in many different ways. Some people may in fact choose to hide from the world and collect their thoughts and this is definitely fine. I, however, literally returned to Seattle and threw myself into a endless stream of projects. I may have done this in order not to think about the void I would inevitably feel in coming to terms with losing such a wonderful man,  though I think I was more inspired by my father's death to actually get out and embrace life and all this world has to offer.

Did I do this to prove to myself and my father my own self worth? Or, am I just wanting to make my father proud whether he is around to stand with me in my successes; no matter how large or small these may be. Or, maybe I  just came to the realization that life is short and I feel the urge - the pull - to want to accomplish as much as I can in the short time I am here. To be perfectly honest, I do feel that I am always running against the clock, not the literal clock, though I do feel that to, but strangely enough I feel that I do not have much time and I am always rushing against the invisible hands of time ticking, ticking, ticking. 

I cannot help but think of the words of Henry David Thoreau when he said, " I went into the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dear; nor did I wish to practice resignation, unless it was quite necessary. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life."

So yes, I have been living life to the fullest...and it sure is exhausting.

Image provided by the Library of Congress, 1908, Detroit Publishing Co.