How many balls do you have? In the air, I mean. If you ask any man that question, they might give you a smirk and say, “Ah, two?” What I’m really getting at here is, how do we keep all the balls, aka facets of our lives, up in the air without letting any of them hit the ground and splat like a piece of pizza on a hardwood floor? This actually just happened to me, so the “splat” is pretty fresh in my mind. But we aren’t here to talk about pizza.
There’s work-life balance and then there’s just plain life balance. Now, I’m no gymnast although I was the shortest girl in ballet class when my mom made me go (crying) when I was three. Eleven years of ballet taught me a lot about balance but nothing about how to balance my life.
I think this is the age old question. I just got back from a much-needed vacation, but prior to returning, my mind started racing about all of the things I needed to do when I got home. The kids, job, charity events, did I remember to call the snowplow guy etc, etc, ETC! It’s like a Wheel of Fortune wheel I sit on far too often and spin. I don’t win any money, I just want to hurl.
The ironic thing about all of us juggling balls is that only a select few of us are actually jugglers. I’m just happy I can juggle two balls, but in my LIFE, I juggle what I feel is too many to count. And quite honestly, sometimes I just feel overwhelmed. This is when I purposely avoid watching shows I am interested in and when I’m having a crap day, I catch up on what I have missed. My “mind vacation,” which sometimes has a tendency to last for hours, but who cares! It’s an escape from all of the balls.
I’ve done a lot of soul searching lately, especially after turning the big 5-0. What are we actually accomplishing by stressing ourselves out to the point of exhaustion or God forbid, a heart attack or stroke? Is the stress of juggling all of these life facets really worth it in the end? I’m thinking, not so much.
The more I think of it, the pressure to keep all my balls in the air comes from me. No one is over my shoulder saying, “Hey, you’re a crap mom because you missed your daughter’s soccer game,” or “What an epic fail it was that you didn’t mop your floors before your friends came over the other day.” The truth of the matter is, NOBODY GIVES A SHIT ABOUT YOUR BALLS! Sorry guys. No one cares about all of the things you are juggling but YOU.
So I have had a bit of a post forty-nine epiphany and have said to myself, “The hell with it if my to-do list runneth over to the next day, week, whatever!” I am going to learn to handle my balls differently. Excuse me, I mean my life facets. I don’t have to have them all up in the air at the same time, moving in perfect motion at a constant rate. Am I going to drop some? Of course. But the cool thing is, I get to choose which ones I want to drop. Maybe I’ll hear a splat, but it for sure won’t be the pizza.