Balance

Here I am, standing on top of the teeter-totter. The wooden plank beneath my feet is even, and I'm in the middle, keeping enough balance on both sides so that neither end hits the ground. This is what my life feels like these days—a balancing act. Nothing is awful or wrong, it's just life, and I am keeping things steady, so nothing falls apart.

Many times this week, I thought about the green wooden teeter-totters that used to be in the playground at my elementary school. There were crushed pebbles underneath the worn footpath that would scrape your knees if the Farmer Farmer on the other end let you down too quickly or, God forbid, jumped off. I'm sure the old wooden plank teeter-totters are part of the banned 1970's playground equipment, yet I somehow survived the horror of playing on them in my plaid uniform skirt and getting little splinters on my fanny. I'm amazed at how clearly I can see that playground, those teeter-totters when I can't remember why I walked into the kitchen 10 minutes ago.

So here I am, standing on the top, in the middle; neither side is tipping; my legs aren't shaking because I am strong until around 8 pm when my body and mind are winding down and need recharging. I don't jump off and let it all crash - I sit down, gently slide to one side, and rest.
I did my job well.
I walked the dog.
I didn't swear at the guy who cut me off and took my parking space at the grocery store; I just found another one.
I loved my family.
I'll do it all again tomorrow with a heart full of gratitude.
Today, I have done enough, and you probably did too.