Balance. I seem to be constantly falling out of it. Walking is the art of falling and catching myself, step after step, each one an adjustment to my intended tempo, direction, and the changing terrain under my feet.
Balance in my life comes in the form of ebb and flow, feeling more tide-like than tree-like. Although I enjoy feeling rooted, I am more often on the move, exploring, adventuring. Balance for me is consistency without the rigidity of scheduling every minute of every day. It's showing up, no matter how I feel to commitments I've made to myself and to others.
Balance is knowing when I need to rest and then doing just that. It's taking time to breathe and to notice the best parts of the day.
Balance is gratitude and honoring the wisdom of my body. Balance can be immersing myself in one thing while everything else waits, suspended. Sometimes I perch precariously, wobbling, yet staying upright, even when things are falling apart. I teeter in balance, changing feet as needed, moving from big toe to pinky toe, shifting a hip, swinging an arm, focusing my gaze, flowing with my breath.
Balance is not perfection or even sameness. Balance is organic, moving, adjusting, opening, rooting, and sometimes falling before picking myself up with a laugh and trying again.
Thank you for reading my thought seed. I hope I have planted something useful in your minds and hearts.
Sending love from my mat to yours.
Namaste,
Kathryn
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