In our modern life of electronic devices both wonderful and infernal (depending on who’s doing the talking), it’s a caution we’re used to getting. The telltale beep, or simply the warning image on our smartphones: a thin, red band showing that the battery in our device is almost out of juice. We need to plug in, recharge and restore.
That’s been me of late–and I’m not talking about warnings from my innumerable gadgets. Something deep inside me has been giving me low battery warnings for a while, thanks to the demands of law school, a Christmas “vacation” that involved trying to get my novel ready for publication, editing work for an important charity I’m involved with, preparation for the mock trial “moot” that I’d be doing in January for school, and wonderful, delightful visits with friends and family out west. The visits were such a joy, but for an introvert like me, they also took their toll (I’m using “introvert” in the Meyers-Briggs sense, as someone like me, who may love people and being social, but who recharges during solitary moments).
