I'm trying to make my life full without letting it overflow; this is my balancing act. It's a lot of missteps, really. A lot of attempts at adding things, then a period of over-scheduling, a clearing house of the dust-bunnies that are made of unnecessary meeting and un-fulfilling volunteerism. Then, I start over.
In yoga, the balancing postures look as though they're all about the strength of the standing leg. If my standing leg is straight and strong, I shouldn't fall over, right? And, if I do, I can blame myself for being weak. That's a common trope for me, believing that I'm weak. The trick about balancing postures is not the standing leg; that's an illusion. Balancing postures are about the breath. breathe in, breathe out. repeat. If I'm clinging to an idea about how it should look, I fall over. If I try to muscle my way to stay upright, I fall over. If a stray thought intrudes, I fall over. But if I just breathe...it's beautiful, perfect, just how it should be. Not too tight, not too loose, as they say.
So, here's the balancing posture of my daily life. I want to move every day...some yoga, some walking, some deep breathing to clear out the inner cobwebs. I want some quiet time, and I want some time to fold laundry, drink tea, and watch dumb TV shows without interruption. Breathe in, breathe out. Stop grasping at what should have been might have been, could have been. The postures are imaginary; they don't look like anything until my body is in them, so why am I all bunged up about their form? I am their form. Let go a little more, and find that I've always been in that posture just right. There is no wrong way, no wrong form for my body to take.