I love this image! It reminds me of the swing at my grandparents' house when I was a child. There was just the one - though they had literally dozens of grandkids - and we would all take turns. Usually, someone would sit and pump while another child stood over them adding their effort, the lingering scent of lilac and Sweet William-kissed air rushing by. The chains were long and rusty, hung from towering poles set deep in the ground, and it felt like you were soaring - back-n-forth, back-n-forth - so high you could see over the garage and into the neighbors' fields. Sometimes it took a while to get into the swing of things, and often, just when you did, your turn was up. Just like that.
I'm trying to get into the swing of things again now, adjusting to a new writing schedule, trying to manage the minutia of marketing, keeping a foot firmly planted in the day-to-day of family life. Some days I don't swing very high, and the day is gone before I ever really get started. But the important thing, I guess, is just being willing to climb on, to pump for all I'm worth, and keep aiming for the sky.