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I envision my life journey as walking across a balance beam. I’m dressed in a black leotard and pink tights. My arms are outstretched, I slowly place one bare foot in front of the other as I make my way along the beam. At times I glide along without fearing that I’ll fall into the unknown. A few steps later my arms are flailing and fear clutches at my heart, as I struggle to stay in place. It’s as if a strong storm has suddenly come up with gale force winds. I need to find a way to stay where I am. But then just as suddenly it stops and once more I move easily along the beam with confidence and grace. This is my life. And it repeats over and over again.
Sometimes the storms are stronger than at other times. Sometimes the earth quakes beneath me. Sometimes I fall and since there is no net or cushion on the ground beneath me, my bruises are terribly painful. Sometimes they heal very quickly other times, not so much. Unless I pick myself up and get back on the beam I could find myself living an aimless life, afraid of my own shadow.
Life is filled with good, bad, ugly, and beautiful. I know of people who spend their lives with the bad and the ugly. I’ve been there myself. They never make an effort to walk beyond their prison gates, staying where they feel safest. They fear what is beyond their immediate perceptions, keeping themselves locked and secure against what could be a monster seeking its prey. They miss the sunshine, the sound of water falling over a bed of rocks, the soft summer breeze that causes the ferns and flowers to dance, and the sound of bees buzzing in the garden. Of course there are gray days, but even in the darkest times when the sun can’t find a way through the clouds, I try to take heart knowing the rain will make the flowers flourish. And I can watch the way snowflakes pile up on the leafless branches of trees, blanketing my world with the stuff of snowmen and the thrill of sledding down steep hills.
Everyone has good days and bad days. And if we don’t take risks and walk out beyond the four walls that contain us, we will live forever in a darkness of our own making. When I have a bad day I try to take comfort in small things that will see me through to the next sunny one.
I cuddle and talk with my dogs.
I go for long, slow walks, allowing myself to adjust to the pulse of the neighborhood. I wave and smile hello to everyone I meet. Even those I don’t know.
I pick or buy myself a bouquet of flowers.
I listen to music. George Gershwin’s Rhapsody in Blue, will lift me up every time I hear it and before long I’m swinging from beams of sunlight.
I’ll cook something delicious. Eggplant parmesan is one of my favorite things. And ice cream, especially the creamiest available, always gives me a shot in the arm. But I don’t keep it in my house. If I need it, I go to my local Ben & Jerry’s and order one or two scoops of whatever flavor takes my fancy. And just stopping what I’m doing and getting out can wake me up to all sorts of possibilities.
A good hot soak in the tub to which I add drops of lavender essential oil and epsom salts that pull the toxins out of my body helps me relax while the storms of life rage on.
When I’m very tired I take a nap, and wake refreshed a while later, feeling ready to take on the world again.
Life happens. Besides taking care of myself, I need to sit at my desk and find words to fill the empty screen in front of me. There is the laundry to do, and a note of condolences to write to a friend who just lost her husband. I need to straighten out a billing problem, and the refrigerator needs cleaning out. There are every day survival things I must take care of. But if I take care of myself balance becomes easier.
The astounding thing is that the more I take care of what my mind and body needs in any given moment, the easier it is to keep myself on the beam.
How do you balance your life?
Lovely post, Joan. On the surface, balance seems elusive but I agree there are ways to minimize the chaos and center oneself, as you have mentioned. Some days are better than others and it’s always changing but you offer valuable ways to strike a balance. When I was undergoing cancer chemotherapy, I came across an acronym that I attempted to live by. HALT: When I’m Hungry I eat; Angry, I vent; Lonely, I reach out and Tired, I rest. Back to the basics. Thanks for these wonderful reminders that self-care is the key to balance.
Thank you, Kathy. I love that acronym. It’s a good one to post my bulletin board. I hope you all had a wonderful 4th of July.
Joan — “…if we don’t take risks and walk out beyond the four walls that contain us, we will live forever in a darkness of our own making.” I love that you don’t keep ice cream in your own freezer. Rather, you have to leave your own premises to enjoy the treat. Brilliant!
Thanks Laurie. If I kept it my own freezer I’d have to go out and buy more every single day and I’d be 10 times the size I am and would probably have a horrible dairy allergy!!
Hi Joan, Thank you for this post. These are healthy reminders to take care of ourselves, especially the older we get. Today I had my annual eye exam and they wanted an extra $40 for a retinal scan that avoided dilation and using drops . . . and you know what? I said yes! It was easier and provides better imaging. In the old days, when raising the boys, that $40 would have gone to college or helping them pay for things . . . now I put myself first. I like the image, too, of the balance beam. It’s true what you say . . . an aromatic bath, a candle, a good book, these are the things that promote a healthy and rewarding life, especially as we grow older and confront a whole new set of challenges.
Susan, Thanks for stopping by. Putting ourselves first as we get older is very important. I, for one, have been caught up in caring for others most of life, and it’s high time I take some time for myself, especially knowing that it is impossible to take good care of others if I don’t good care for myself.
At the moment we are moving from the cozy nest we’ve known for 37 into a new space. Today I transported 20 photo albums into shelves at the new address. The new house still doesn’t feel like home; maybe it will feel more so when my schoolhouse clock ticks on the kitchen wall.
It’s a cycle, moving physically and psychically from equilibrium, to disequilibrium, and back to equilibrium (after the move I hope). Every day during the transition, I try to do something familiar, like going to my Pilates class this morning. There I work on balance, see familiar faces, feel in sync for an hour.
I picked a crepe myrtle bloom to bring home, am listening to Bach now, and will soak in a hot tub with epsom salts later. Great tips in your post and in the comments as usual.
Oh, Marian, you are caught up in the middle of a big, life changing event. It sounds like you have a handle on it by taking time to do things like your Pilates class. And the music is so important as well as the soak.
My thoughts and prayers are with you during your transition to a new home.
Thanks! 🙂
Great post, Joan. I certainly identify with your analogy, and I love how you have those small things that can return the balance. I have those too.
At the moment I have just fallen off the beam, but am climbing back on – I just hope the wind isn’t too strong!
Thanks for your great comment, Linda. It’s the getting back up on the beam that is the most important work we can do. Once we get our equilibrium up there it’s only a severe wind that can take us down!