End of Doldrums?

It seems to me that much like the oceans, life flows in and out. I would like to believe that I am a perpetual motion person, that I wake each day with new ideas, enveloped in joy and anxious to tackle each new thing. In fact, I am occasionally like that, but often just getting up and feeding the cat pretty much consumes my day’s allocated ambition.
As a member of the working, striving, ever onward working world, I never questioned the need to rise, do the chores, show up at work and at least put on a show of being productive. That carried over to home. Get the yards done, finish this project, complete the home improvement.
And Then:
I discovered that tomorrow comes whether I complete anything or not. What may not be there tomorrow are the people, the animals, the scenery. So, I stop and enjoy each moment and if a nameless project is slow in completion, so be it.
Is that a sign I’m slowing down or getting smarter? That would take more energy than it’s worth to figure out.
What I do sense right now is that I have been in a lull, one of those valleys between the peaks. Maybe it is Spring, perhaps a feeling that America is coming out of its self absorbed fear, a sense that all is starting to come right, but I feel some old urges to be productive arising again. About time.
Personally, the last two weeks have been great. I got a clean bill of health from two doctors, Ben Laden took one for the team* some long festering personal problems seem to be resolving themselves, and most wonderfully I arrived at the horse farm about five minutes after a new foal was born. I was pretty much mesmerized for two hours while he went through all the early stages of joining the herd.
I might have had a better perspective, but mother seemed intent on not sharing. Out of maternal respect and the fact mother weighs two thousand pounds, I graciously watched from the outside.
And so perhaps the lawn will get mowed this week, the life story may get written, this blog may get done again, or perhaps I will meet a puppy and all bets are off.
*I have no sense of joy or celebration over the death of a human being. I see this much like the time an ugly dog in the neighborhood had to be put to sleep. It was sad, but the dog’s own actions left no choice. The neighborhood was then, and is now safer.