A Rant About Balance

Bal·ance: noun

1. An even distribution of weight enabling someone or something to remain upright and steady.
“I tripped and lost my balance” (This is a very relatable example for me.)

2. A condition in which different elements are equal or in the correct proportions.
“Overseas investments can add balance to an investment portfolio” (Um…This example? Not so much. We have no money invested offshore AND —my right boobie is bigger than my left. Just sayin’.)

3. An apparatus for weighing, especially one with a central pivot, beam, and a pair of scales.
(Any allusion to weight or scales and I get squirrely and stop reading.)

So, 4. and 5. and blah, blah, blah… There are three more definitions for balance but I think we all get the picture.

The only reason I put this up was because of my meditation today. You see, while my mind went searching in its own kind of scavenger hunt sort of cleverly disorganized way for my newest mantra, which is SURRENDER, it came back to me with the word BALANCE.

That was not what I sent it out to find!

So, I fought it. You know, like you do during meditation.

I fought like a crazed spider monkey looking for a hidden peanut in a rainforest in Madagascar.
I wanted my word!
I wanted SURRENDER!
Not that it was working all that well for me, which seems fairly obvious as I type this. But damn it! I find myself lately in dire need of some surrendering, so I figure that if I repeat it enough times in that far away place that meditation can drop you into, all of my synapses will re-wire themselves and I will open my eyes and suddenly be…tranquil…Accepting…Surrendery.

Except look who showed up instead. Fucking BALANCE.

Okay, show of hands, who here has achieved balance in their life? Uh huh. Uh, huh. Just as I suspected. Billy…put your hand down. Don’t make me come over there…

We all have moments of balance. Maybe even a day here or a month there and then that pesky thing called life gets in that way and fucks everything up.

Regardless of how convinced I am that my shit is together, there’s always a stray hair, right? Or a loose thread that’s threatening to unravel my delicate sweater of a life. Or a sudden wind set to blow down my house of cards.

If you’re anything like me (and I know you are), I always think I need to chill out more. Things are too hectic. Running, running, running. Planes, trains, and automobiles. Oh, my! Then, after I have relaxed for, I don’t know, three days, I get the itch to un-wedge my ass from the beach chair, grab a scooter and rob a bank because I’m SO FUCKING BORED!

Who’s with me?

BALANCE, HA! That means things are humming along nicely, right?  T’s crossed and I’s dotted. Duckies all in a row.

Very rarely (never) are my duckies in a row. My duckies are scattered to the wind, skittering across the pavement. My duckies are distacted by shiney objects and since they all wear tin-foil hats—it’s a mess. I’m under the impression that you need perfectly lined up duckies to achieve balance.

Am I wrong?

When I’m home I feel wanderlust. I want to be traveling the world and when I’m traveling I want to get home. When I’m eating kale I want it to be pizza. If I’m writing I want to be playing. I ask you, is that balance?

My girls and I went to Nashville to work. To hunker down and finish stuff. All of that unfinished stuff that tortures us at 3 am. To write our asses off. To brainstorm, and make calls, and answer emails and…“Can we go out? Can we go back to that hipster bar tonight so I can flirt with that bartender Kenneth again?”  I started whining at 5 pm.

I was done. Cooked. The unfinished stuff would have to wait for another day.

BALANCE!

I have none.

None!

So, I guess the voice in my head knows me better than I know myself.
SURRENDER will have to wait…or will it?

Carry on,
xox