MamaCentric

B A L A N C E

He is perched atop a chair reaching toward the middle of our dining room table. Only three, his chubby legs grow stronger with each day, and yet, still they wobble as he tries to find his way. It must look like such a big world from his view. Everything up just a little too high for his hands to easily grasp. Everyone else just a little bit taller, a little bit wiser. Onto the tips of his toes he balances, precariously. The chair begins to slide out from under him, one second away from {another} busted lip. And I catch him.

I catch him just in time for the fear to feel like exhilaration; the falling more like flight. He giggles with delight.

B A L A N C E

He is still, his face frowned in concentration. Gingerly, he places the final block atop what he has been building for hours, or at least what seems like hours in the world of a six-year-old where time doesn’t seem to move at all. He is hopeful that this place he chose after such careful consideration, this place would be the right one to hold the weight of his masterpiece. But it crashes to the ground and his tears of rage aren’t far behind.

He studied. He planned. He moved slowly. What a cruel world where, in an instant, what you’ve created is so easily undone. What happened to the balance?

B A L A N C E

She is new. Her arms and legs flail wildly when she reaches. In her mind, the sparks of curiosity are rapidly firing, but she must wait for what she desires, wait until someone notices. And when we are in tune with what she seeks to discover, all feels right again. The flailing settles into the security of our guidance.

Her entire perception of the world rests within the balance of her needs being met by the capable hands of another. 

B A L A N C E

People like to ask us mothers how we are achieving the balance. You must have heard this; balance is marketed as the epitome of enlightenment.

If you are spiritually sound, you will feel balanced.

If you clear out the clutter, you might discover balance.

If you are the best version of yourself, you will achieve balance. 

If you could just stop teetering on the precipice of failure, then perhaps, you might be mended well enough to find your balance.  

And, the most glaring of all: EVERYone else is balanced. Why in the world aren’t YOU?

But it isn’t true.

I watch my children and I know that balancing is an act. We practice it, yes, but it isn’t something that sticks around like steady ground.

Isn’t that the nature of learning to balance? Slipping our way through the wobbly legs, the flailing arms, the crashing creations? Trusting that we will be supported, though this world is always spinning?

It’s having faith in the arms of another to catch us before we hit the pavement.

It’s open hearts that let the grief in and decide to rebuild, to keep going.

It’s believing that our needs will be met, even when we have every reason to believe that no one is noticing our outcry.

Balancing is as much about taking flight in our fall as it is about standing tall.

It’s understanding that balance isn’t something to conquer; it’s something to invite in to your soul. Like love, or sorrow, or elation. It is fleeting. But trust, it will return.

b a l a n c e

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Today is my last day as a contributor to Little & Mighty’s Mighty Mamas Series. It is perhaps the most important discussion, yet, because we must work together to break the belief that we are the only ones living a life unbalanced.

I do hope you’ll come join us over at Little & Mighty to join in the discussion.