Working through challenges with my back this summer has required me to make thoughtful 
adjustments in my thinking and behavior. I've had to be disciplined to limit the content,
duration and frequency of my transitions. When I have evening responsibilities, I moderate
my day. If I've got to do some standing, I sit in advance. I've been strategically plotting 
my path and, whenever possible eliminating unnecessary action. It's my reality 
and I'm owning it.

I'm someone who's always been comfortable with transitions--those spaces "in between" 
and "during" one destination to another. I know some folks who, like surgeons, slice through 
one experience/space/consciousness to another without pause and I've honestly never 
understood how that works. I guess I've always believed that much of what's most 
important in life happens in the transitions, interactions replete with smiles...interludes
where emotions - love and care or pain and concern - trump words...silences 
that bestow space and place to explore within and expand outward. 

So this more precise behavior is new for me and sometimes feels abrupt. And over this 
period I'm coming to appreciate what it means to limit the transitions in life. Appreciating 
using more of my "science" than my "art" in my approach, thoughtfully navigating 
my path without rest stops and budgeting my time without padding for the miscellaneous. 
I'm finding power in my increased precision and clarity in movement as well as a 
unique satisfaction in being able to check off my accomplishments sooner.

It's also got me focused on the things in life that transcend the mundane. 
Like if I want to ascend, I have to reach. 
For all the things I want to start, just get moving.
And really, when it's over, it’s time to leave.