Here in Norfolk, as in a lot of the United Kingdom, last week was chilly and wet and decidedly un-spring-like. In tandem with the blossom on the trees, and the seedlings in the ground, we humans had to practice perseverance to get us through to the brighter weather and slightly higher temperatures that we are now enjoying.
Life is like that, too. Sometimes it is dreary and grey and there is an unpleasant chill in our hearts. We are not sure where we want to be, or what we want to be doing; perhaps we are not even sure who we are. The central character in my nascent novel (nascent may have to be a Word of the Week one of these old days) is in just that state and it is my job to get her from there to a more pleasant position by the end of the book. Or not. Perhaps she is doomed never to find her place; perhaps some people never do. However, whether we find our place or not, we must persevere because where there is life, there is hope.
I like to see perseverance as more positive than doggedness or grim determination. Perseverance is getting the bit between your teeth, it has an edge of self-motivation in it. I like perseverance, and yet I am absolutely rubbish at it. Are you good at perseverance?