I always knew life had seasons. I've participated in several things in my life that I thought I could never do without, and most of them are now things of the past. A choir I sang in. A group meeting I used to attend regularly. Certain job responsibilities.

So I guess it shouldn't surprise me that I had a season there when I just couldn't bring myself to blog. I don't know why it was, really. I'd been exhausted from a difficult summer, but I thought I had come back from that. My life wasn't particularly harder than usual. I'd gotten released from a calling that I never quite got properly into in the first place. I don't know what happened; I just sort of went into hibernation for a while, maybe to figure out some things, maybe to get back in touch with my own heart and brain, maybe just to rest.

And now I'm feeling a season of reaching out. I went to a Relief Society meeting on Tuesday and had a glorious experience. So many strong, faithful, fun, talented young married women have moved into our ward over the past couple of years–I felt excited to get to know them better instead of alienated that I wasn't one of them. I hosted a book group on Thursday and we had such a great discussion that ended up having so little to do with the book that I felt a bit guilty, but not really, because the book gave us the jumping-off points and the discussion was what we all needed more than anything. (It was The Crystal Cave, by Mary Stewart, in case you're dying to know, and we liked it except the ending was a disappointment to most of us.)

Most of all, things have happened over the past month that have made me realize that I had accidentally fallen yet again into the trap of letting work "take it all," meaning all my emotional resources, all my attention, all my energy. I thought perhaps I had that luxury now that all my children were out of the house for a while. Turns out it's not a luxury I can afford or even want.

It's not work's fault, I hasten to add. It's just that the job is always, everlastingly there, and it will take whatever I give it and rarely ever thank me for going farther and faster and harder at the expense of other aspects of my life. So I'm choosing differently this year. I'm fitting my work into my life instead of trying to squeeze in my life around my work. It's not that different an allocation of hours; it's more a mind-set thing.

And suddenly, I find that I want to blog again. I sort of hope somebody's still out there to notice, but if not, it doesn't really matter. This is my season of reaching out, and that's what I'm going to do.