I've been doing a lot of writing for work these days. Lately that's included some work around balance and "rightness". In the writing I've been doing I speak of a "sweet spot" where everything in your life comes together.
The sweet spot in life is an interesting place, in that it's not A place. There's not one sweet spot where, when the stars are aligned everyone congregates. If you were able to map people's sweet spots and tell them to go stand in their sweet spot so that we can get a lay of the land, you'd see people all over the place.
Sure there'd be enclaves of collectives, but probably not as many as we might expect, and they'd have to be moving all the time in order to stay in their sweet spot. The pattern we'd gaze out over would be almost unrecognizable and nothing repeatable.
That's the way happiness is. It's unique and changing and doesn't always make a lot of sense to others. Yet happiness is something that we pursue with a passion. There's a line from a Sarah Teasdale poem that comes to mind when I think of happiness and the sweet spot and that is:
For one white singing hour of peace
Count many a year of strife well lost,
And for a breath of ecstasy
Give all you have been, or could be.
Why then do so many people "save" their sweet spot time for after work, or for weekends, or for "when I retire?" Why is it that so many people have come to feel that the sweet spot has to be earned, or is a privilege, or that you can have too much of it, or that too much isn't good? We are on this earth for such a short while. It would seem to me that as brief as our time is, wouldn't it be great to be happy?
Coming full circle I come back to balance and rightness and the very personal nature of how that plays out. I realize that I have patterns of balance in my life that invite happiness in and allow it to take hold and be a real part of my day to day life. As I investigate the nature of my personal sweet spot, I see balance as an important component.
Wishing you balance and happiness in the pursuit of your very personal sweet spot.
Hugs,
Betsy
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