12 Seconds of Darkness

My life right now pretty much consists of racing around, whether on foot, or in the car, from place to place and from commitment to commitment.

A typical day has me taking LO to school at 7:15, running by my favorite coffeehouse for a mug refill and a HH muffin, then sliding in to work at 7:30. Many days I have to leave work to check her out of school and hie to an orthodontist's/doctor's/dentists/other/ appointment, then back to school to check her back in, then back to work.

On some days, DH picks her up from school and drops her at the museum to study in my office until we can go home. On other days, I cut the workday short to pick her up and go home, or bring her back with me so I can finish items there.

In addition, my work necessitates that I make daily trips to the printer or office supply place or some vendor to get printed material/event planning items/door prizes. This is all in addition to the appointments with local businesses/banks/individuals to talk about their potentially sponsoring an upcoming exhibition.

Last Thursday, I had LO in tow as I left work to race to a meeting a PCJ, and left that meeting early to make it to another meeting here in the neighborhood. Every week I have at least one night or two with meetings, many with more than one meeting, just as on Thursday.

Last week during the day I was on a trip to pick up printed items and deliver them to a local volunteer who is soliciting support for the museum from her peers in her industry. While in the car, I heard the coolest interview with a guy from Spain (originally from Uruguay,) named Jorge Drexler, who writes music. His latest CD is called, '12 Segundos de Oscuridad' or, 12 Seconds of Darkness. As the interviewer asked why it has that title, he explained that what distinguishes one lighthouse from another is the interval of darkness between revolutions of the light. The sailors can identify their location by the period of darkness between blasts of light.

The compelling thought I got from all this was not the music, nor even the understanding of the lighthouses, but the metaphor of the lighthouses to our own lives. It's not the sunny days, the days of relative calm, the friends or good meals or contented cats in our lives that set us apart from all the other zillions of people we know, it's our 12 seconds of darkness. It's my having lost my father, my friend whose husband committed suicide, my husband's loss, that make us stronger and more resilient than we were before, that sets us apart from each other.

I am struggling to adjust to returning to the workplace. It seems so much more complicated and difficult than it ever did before, and I live in a perpetual state of semi-panic, trying to get it all done. Somehow the 12 Segundos comforted me.