By Lisa Meade
I try to model balance.
I try to guide my clients in finding what this looks like for them personally; where they need to let go, where they can seek support, and how to be present. Yet, even with the best of intentions I sometimes find my self looking into the eyes of exhaustion. Balance has slipped away.
Lately, there has been such tremendous fullness in my life. The days need an extra spoonful of time added to them in order for me to attend to all I want to and need to do. Busy is a big word in my vocabulary lately. Busy with intention, not mindlessly busy, but busy nonetheless.
And what does busy do to me?
Wipes me out, wears me down, and, thankfully, demands that I pay attention and slow down, hit the pause button or pull the plug all together.
I am still a human being practicing the fine art of balance. My heart wants more than my body can hold sometimes. My mind thinks I can do more than I really can. My ego convinces me that this or that HAS to get done. And, fortunately, my soul speaks up and reminds me that I know better.
If I listen and pay attention to this simple fact I then find myself again.
Life presents me with so many opportunities to practice what I am learning.
Bear with me for a rambling sentence or two. We are at a place in time where we, my husband and I, are finishing up the final renovations on a condo we are flipping to put on the market as soon as possible in order to take advantage of the season; just returned from a flight to Colorado where we spent long days looking at properties that we hoped to find so we can build our future home there; found one and now begin the mind boggling process of purchasing, return home to celebrate our youngest child’s senior prom with all his friends.
Take a breath.
Put the condo on the market, begin scheduling all the necessary inspections of the new property from out of state and half way across the country, begin preparing for the month of June which holds the following: oldest son graduates from his Medical Residency in New Jersey, that is one weekend, attend Senior awards ceremony for youngest son, attend his High School graduation, marry my oldest son and his fiance on another weekend, attend their wedding reception on the following weekend, take another breath. (Please note, there are three daughters in between these two sons who also have full lives—but thank you Universe—are in a quiet mode right now.)
And so I look for balance. Simple, but definitely not easy.
So, as you can see, being out of balance is not always because of poor choices, or denial, or in my control. All I can do is the best I can do. I want to enjoy all these amazing life events as much as possible. I want to be as present as I can be. I want to celebrate all the gifts to be found in them. And I don’t want to be staring into the eyes of exhaustion while I am doing so.
I have found that sometimes my balance does not come in measured doses.
Sometimes, it comes like a long thirsty drink of ice cold water on a hot parched summer day. It comes with welcoming relief. I enjoy it as I guzzle it down. And before I rush through it, I take a moment to savor the last few sips. I feel the balance travel through me and fill me with the necessary energies needed. I feel it help me release in breaths of relief all that is not serving me. I sit back in the shade that balance brings and assess what I will or will not do next.
I think we all have times like this in our lives. I think sometimes balance is slippery and elusive. I know that I feel much more grounded when I have better balance in my life, but I also know that sometimes doing the best I can do, is the best I can do.
Life is good, even if it is not beautifully balanced right now. I am grateful for all the blessings showering upon me. But I also know that to maintain a soulful presence I have to honor my body and mind’s needs as well. I must take a break, find that pause, embrace the few moments of down time that get presented to me. I practice trusting that everything that needs to get done will.
And in that moment I find myself looking into the eyes of possibility.
Editor: Ty H Phillips