Balance. It’s a challenge. From the day you finally stand on those wobbly legs and bravely let go of your mommy’s hands to the daring moment when you take your first steps. Balance is the key. Of course, balance takes on a much less literal meaning as we grow up and our struggle becomes more with the figurative implications. You know, making time for friends and family without interfering with the rung-by-rung climb up the corporate ladder. Or, making sure the work doesn’t eclipse the play (and the other way around). I can’t speak personally to the balance of children and spouses and family time and intimacy, but I witness that struggle watching my friends. It looks mind-blowingly difficult and absolutely exhausting.
There are times when I’m the balance queen. When I’ve got more balls in the air than I think is possible to manage, but I seem to juggle them with ease. So much ease at times that I feel a little guilty about it. Like I’ve figured out the key to happily breezing through life and am not sharing the secret with everyone else. I’m pretty sure that’s when the balls start dropping one by one, smacking me in the face and interrupting my mojo.
I woke up this morning lost and lonely. I haven’t been here in a long time and it’s unnerving how quickly I arrived. The interesting thing about my being lost is that I know change is on the horizon. I feel it at the core of my being. I once read that if you make a decision and it scares the hell out of you, then it’s most likely the right one. And, my sister always tells me, “If it ain’t a hell yes then it’s a hell no!” Those two nuggets of knowledge make me feel armed and ready for whatever is on the other side of the hill.
I think I’ll spend the day hoping.
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