Balancing act

Ricky Lankford said that balance is the ultimate goal.

I was told that once I find balance, everything would fall into place. Well who doesn't want everything to fall into place and life to be easy? No constant struggle of making the right decision or making a decision to start with. But I've found myself asking, "What exactly is balance?"

Is it that high score that you get on the WII fit balance board if you get it just right? That is balance, but that's going to improve my posture, not change my life. Then there is the current favourite among many. Work-life balance. Work–life balance according to Wikipedia is a broad concept including proper prioritizing between "work" (career and ambition) on the one hand and "life" (Health, pleasure, leisure, family and spiritual development) on the other.

Work-life isn't the right balance for me. My belief is that work is part of life, so I'm going for life balance. But still, what does that mean?

Having thought about it lately, I believe you are balanced when you reach the end of the day feeling that you've given those around you what they needed and most of all you have received what you need. You are happy and content and feel fulfilled. Nothing is missing.

The balanced are those that are not running around in a flat spin trying to get the jobs for the day done. They are the cool, calm and collected individuals who have it together. It doesn't mean that they don't have a lot to do, they just know how to get things done and deal with whatever comes there way, even a major crisis diverting all their plans. Life isn't perfect for them. They also experience speed wobbles, but they know how to get back on an even keel.

I know I'm not one of these balanced individuals yet, but with dedication and focus I can get the scales level. The Bridge Maker summarizes the balanced life very well and offers good pointers on how to achieve this life.

"Living a balanced life is the ability to take all that life throws at us from our careers, home, health and everything else, and put it in a central location so we can re-frame it in order to better understand it, learn from it and grow from it." http://www.thebridgemaker.com/how-to-live-a-balanced-life/.

 Beliefnet also had some good advise to offer - http://www.beliefnet.com/Inspiration/2009/How-We-Restore-Balance-in-Life.aspx. There are many more, just Google "life balance" and take from them what you need.

Good luck in succeeding in the ultimate goal.

Santa lives

 At what age does Santa become a fairytale? When my 7 year old wasn't willing to part with a seldom played with toy to give to charity, I threatened that there would be no toys for Christmas. Her reply naturally was that Santa would bring her toys.

I thought 7 is a good age to learn the truth. "Santa doesn't exist." Bad move!!! The tears started and the argument ensued that he most certainly does exist. "He's not going to exist for you this year," was my quick recovery. Is she going to fall for it? Wait for it.... Explanation accepted and crisis averted.

So 7 isn't the right age, at least not for her. I don't remember how old I was when I discovered mom put the pressies under the tree and not some fat guy in a red suit and white beard.

But the truth will have to be balanced when it does come out, because I still want my youngest to enjoy the fantasy of childhood, and that includes still thinking that there is a Santa for a few years to come. I mean she's only 2 and a half and deserves the same luxury my eldest has had of imagination.

A luxury that others don't have. Which was why I was trying to reduce their stockpile of toys to donate to the less fortunate. And then the logic of my 7 year old struck!

"Mommy, why doesn't Santa visit the poor people?" Think, think, think. You can't say he doesn't exist, unless you want her world to fall apart again. "Um, because poor people don't stay in the same place all the time, so he can't find them." Silence while this is being processed. "Oh, ok." Thank goodness, she's accepted that. But just for good measure I added; "And Santa is using us as his helpers by giving toys to the poor."

Happy that all was well with the world she trotted away. So Santa lives on for another year in our house.

Sad Play

This morning I found myself, not for the first time since I've had kids, wishing I'd gone and done some kind of psychology course. Specifically, child psychology. How do I help my 7 year old child who is crying because at break time she needs to FIND friends? Find, because they:

• already have enough for the game they are playing - it only needs 4 players
• don't want to play with her
• play for a little while and then leave
• have run out of class, without taking her with

This is a little girl who has such a soft heart.And listening to this, my heart breaks.

Now I'm one of those mom's who automatically asks, "What did you do to them?" I don't believe my daughter is beyond reproach or perfect. She doesn't seem to think she's done anything wrong. Was she being bossy and the kids have had enough? No? It could still be that, but now I start to think that maybe it could be the other kids being nasty. I've seen it before with my own eyes.

But why? She doesn't dress funny, or have bad breath or any birth marks that the kids can tease her about. So why don't the kids want to play with my precious little girl. It's not like she's trying to make new friends. She's been at school with them for a year, some for two years. How do I get to the bottom of this without lining the culprits up against the wall and giving them 20 questions? I'm sure moms and dads would love me for that, not to mention the school.

I've brought it up with the teacher before and she spoke to the class, but here we are again. I know I can't protect her from all the lessons in life, and I shouldn't. But how do I give her the right advise to deal with this lesson?

There it goes

I watch as it passes by down there. I don't place myself above it for any reason of superiority, but rather because I am watching it happen and like flying in a helicopter, above is a great vantage point. 

I feel disjointed and disconnected from my own life. As it happens I am but a mere observer. This is such a strange feeling inside of me. Things are happening and I'm watching. I've stopped myself from getting too emotionally involved with certain situations so as to avoid disappointment, but at the same time I'm  stopping myself from living my life and experiencing everything, good or bad. 

I see the days go by on the calendar but couldn't tell you what I've been doing, or accomplished. In limbo, waiting. But waiting for what. I'm not even sure. I could speculate, but I don't really have the energy to analyze it nor the inclination.

I go about by chores and make sure they're all done, so I am living my life am I not? I don't think I've let anybody down or missed any important appointments. My family seem all fine and are carrying on. So it is good is it not? 

Ah ha! That's it. I've made sure everyone else is ok, but I haven't taken that same time and care with myself. I have dreams and aspirations, but am not making the time for them. It's time I fall from the sky, back into my life and start directing it.

Here I go!

                                                                                                              

 

It's up to the Universe

The time has come. I need to relinquish control. It's not like I was ever really in control of the situation, but I was trying very hard. It's very difficult to let go and adopt the what will be, will be attitude. Let the Universe take care of it.

It is human nature to try and control everything that happens in our lives. Of course, we are the drivers of our lives, so we need to direct them. But it's not healthy to be in control all the time, as it causes stress and disappointment. But handing the problem to the Universe actually takes a weight off my shoulders and allows me to go on with the business of living life.



I'm not saying that I manage just to cut myself off and let go. It's a bit of a process. It's easy to say, "well if it happens it happens", but actually stopping the mind process takes a little longer. But if I fill my time with living life, like baking with the kids, writing this blog and doing fun stuff, my mind doesn't have time to dwell on the problem.

I can't deal with all my problems this way, as some of them do require action from me, but for those that are not within my realm of influence, I need to let go. The Universe has got it covered. It's not to say I can't chat to my angels and guides and ask them to help with the situation. But I can't ask them to handle it and then still try and make things happen. I have to believe.

There is a plan for me and I need to let it unfold as it should. As the song by Charles & Eddie goes, "For everything there is a reason." I need to stop questioning and let it happen and where I can I need to do and make my choices carefully.

So here goes. "I ask my divine angels to take control of selling our house. I ask for the grace to accept that it is not going to happen to my timetable but rather to that of the Universe. I thank you for your help."

Self Help or Help Self

I start with such enthusiasm. This is great! I can do this! My goal is ABC... and I'm going to reach it in 1234... This book is going to get me to where/who I want to be.


Page 1... That's exactly what I want. Oh yes, I do that. Page 2, 3, 4... This book is going to help me so much. I should have bought this ages ago. This author knows exactly what they are writing about. I must look for more books written by this person.

And so I continue to read this book to a better me and before I'm done, I've bought a half dozen more. And then lying in bed reading I get to that very important part... the exercises (Not necessarily physical, but writing stuff down, or meditating, or...). I'm in bed and it's late, so I'll start tomorrow.

And tomorrow the kids are sick or I have to work on a homework assignment. The next day the dogs need to go to the vet and I need to visit my friend. By day 7, I'm starting to admit, all be it very sheepishly that there is either something wrong with me, or the book.

I started the book because I felt there was something in me I could improve on, so it must be me and not the book. But hang on, if the book is that great, why couldn't it get me through to the end. Maybe there's a different kind of book for people like myself who can't complete the exercises. Maybe I need to give up on the books and attend a course where
someone is watching me do the exercises.

So I have a house full of half finished self help books which are great books, just none that I've managed to finish. Let me take that back. I have finished reading some, just not done the exercises which are critical to the program working.

I'm not shooting these books down as I have managed an exercise here and there and it has helped, but any ideas on how I do help myself where I can't cop out because I'm in bed and it's too late to start with the exercises?

Relax or Not

Alcohol can be a wonderful muscle relaxant. Problem with this is that the tongue is one of those human muscles that get relaxed after substantial consumption. And when one's tongue is loose I believe that the truth is spoken. "It is very hard to drink and lie at the same time (#1)."

It doesn't matter if that truth is harsh or not, because when alcohol is involved in large amounts all inhibitors are suppressed and tact, sensitivity and all those good things are out the window. It's not to say that the person being told the truth is not sensitive. They might not have consumed as much as the truth teller and therefore still actually feel something.

And once the words are out the mouth there is no getting them back. The recipient stews over them and sometimes cries over them. And the truth teller? Well most of the time they don't even remember saying what was heard. So for them, there is no stress and life carries on as usual, except they don't quite understand why the other person seems miff.

So should the truth teller be forgiven their drunken words? Should the recipient accept the honesty and look deeper and be less sensitive and know it's a truth they needed to hear, even though it should have been said with a bit more care? Do we all need to drink less, or be less sensitive?

A hard place

When looking for inspiration to write this post, I came across these quotes. There were many more, but these stuck with me:

Good decisions come from experience, and experience comes from bad decisions.  ~Author Unknown

The inability to make a decision has often been passed off as patience.  ~Author Unknown

Indecision becomes decision with time.  ~Author Unknown 

Some persons are very decisive when it comes to avoiding decisions.  ~Brendan Francis

 

Life is the sum of all your choices.  ~Albert Camus

Decision making has always been a time when I wished I could go back to my childhood and leave it up to the adults. I think that I'm so worried about making the wrong decision that I'd rather not make one at all. But I do find, as Rita Mae Brown put it, "A peacefulness follows any decision, even the wrong one." It's just the making of the decision that is so hard.

And again I find myself in that hard place today. Do we, don't we? Now I could pretend to make the decision and just follow what my husband decides. But that kind of attitude is what landed me with a career that my father chose for me. I can't complain, it earns me a good living, but it would have been nice to have had an idea a bit earlier in life as to what I, not my father wanted to do with my life. 

I believe that every decision, right or wrong (which is actually a matter of opinion), is made for a reason. If not to take us further down our right path of life, it's to teach us what we don't want and where we don't want to be. But among learning what I don't want in life, I've also learned that focusing on what I don't want will bring exactly that to me. 

So what to do? Decide what I do want, enjoy the peacefulness following my decision, focus on that and believe that Emerson was right when he said, "Once you make a decision, the universe conspires to make it happen."

 

The House is not my home

I have all of the ingredients mentioned in my readings,

That are required to make a house a home.

But still that fuzzy feeling eludes me.

There is an abundance of love.

Family and friends come by.

The 'lived in' piles of things to sort are in almost every room.

The cozy blanket on the couch for cuddling under.

But still there is no homely feeling in my mind.

It's bricks and mortar that we've made look a little better.

It's comfortable with all the necessities.

But it's not my home.

Is it that the children have little grass to play on,

Or that my in-laws are living in a cave?

The fact that going to the car in rain requires an umbrella.

Or maybe the stairs that need climbing,

Or the fear of  a child to fall down them.

Could it be the chaos of our lives that has stopped us having time to feel at home?

Maybe it's all of these or none of them.

I'd thought a year was long enough for this house to have become my home.

Should I wait and make more changes?

Should I put up the for sale sign and pack my boxes?

Can this pile of bricks become my fuzzy feeling home?

I've put it out there and now I await the return

of the fuzzy feeling that is my home.

Have you seen them?

Boohoohoo (Sniff). Yes, I'm crying. I've had my first sighting and it's absolutely devastating. There aren't a lot, but just the sight of those few pink and white splashes is enough to send me into hibernation. If only I was a bear.

If you haven't guessed it I'm talking about the beautiful cosmos that has started springing up on the side of the road. Unfortunately, even though they're flowers, they don't signal the sign of Spring, but rather that, that, that.... I can't even say it. My lips already feel frozen together.

And we don't even get snow in Gauteng. Well, not very often. For me the snow actually makes that season better. I don't know about snow this year, but I'm betting this year is going to be freezing, considering all the rain we've had and not such a sizzling summer.

Nobodies even going to notice the few kilos I've lost, because when they see me I'm going to look like a marshmallow with all the layers of clothes. It's wonderful to lose even 2 kilos, but the more you lose, the more you seem to feel the cold.

Hibernation is really looking appealing for Winter. There I said it. Get ready, it's on it's way.

Reliability dies

The Oxford definition for reliable: of consistently good character or quality; dependable. Anybody know where you can genuinely use this word, or should we be requesting that it be removed from the dictionary? Just try and do renovations to a house where people do what they say they will when they say they will. I'd love to hear from anybody that has had this happen....

The silence is deafening. Just as is the silence in my house which should be filled with people cutting through the roof to install skylights and other people tiling and painting. Alas the painters and tilers are reliable, but the people who should have installed the aluminum doors and windows only got the sizing and opening direction right on one out of four of their master pieces. So to them we owe our 2 to 3 week delay. As the builder said, the suppliers will promise anything to get the deposit, but once you've parted with that you are at their mercy. 

I try to be reliable. I can be relied on to be late for almost anything. Oh hang on. The definition says a good character and I don't think being late counts. I do score on the reliability count when it comes to being there for my friends should they call. I wonder if people who don't regard reliability as a quality they need to have, expect it from others. I can almost guarantee that they do.

Just checked my watch and it's 9:15. Maybe that's the installers for my kitchen counter tops at the gate, who were supposed to be here at 9:00. Nope! Disappointed again. I'm told that this is how the building industry works, but I have my doubts that this is limited to this industry alone. I've had other experiences which lead me to believe that reliability is just not important to everyone anymore.

Heart attacks and many other ills are the result of the stress caused by these inconsiderate individuals. Then again, it's not always one person, but a culture bred in companies, where the bosses have no regard for it. And do they even realize the pain and stress they cause. Do they even care that somewhere down the line they could or maybe even have killed? Yes, their lack of consideration causes the heart attack of someone who has been let down by so many. And that person dies. So combined they are responsible for the death. The death of the person and that of reliability.

Could kill

It twists and it churns,

And it writhes and it burns.

It constricts and it squeezes,

And it hurts and it seizes.

It pounds in your head,

Makes you sometimes wish you were dead.

Wound up as tight as a spring,

It's the power of this thing.

It brings shouting and screaming,

A kettle over steaming.

It's trouble with a capital T,

And it has engulfed me.

When gone unchecked,

Lives it has wrecked.

It brings with it disease,

And not just a trifle sneeze.

For when it boils,

Beware it's coils.

For let me tell you this,

Anger could kill!

Good luck or not

It is Monday morning and I’ve just opened the back door of my car to help my toddler climb out. Aaaah! I jump back in fright and then look down to see what had just landed on my hand. Thankfully I moved, because the dove sitting on the wire above continues to unload a whole lot more onto the pavement. My first thoughts are yuck, this is gross, get it off me. Then my mind is jogged to the age old superstition. What good luck is in store for me? Will I win the lottery? Wait, it was my right hand. Maybe I’ll get somewhere with my writing. Maybe my good luck was in that it missed my freshly washed, still wet hair.

My research brings up varied opinions on birds pooping on you. There are those that say it’s good luck when it lands on your head. So what about the rest of the body?  Then there is the popular opinion that it is just disgusting and there could not be any possible good luck in such a thing happening. Further to that good luck is offered just to make the person feel better. A little more complicated is the theory where the type of bird will determine the type of luck. Unfortunately dove wasn’t one of the birds mentioned.  And there are the true stories of luck that followed such an incident. But for these true stories there could be hundreds more that did not result in anything.

On the other hand we have those who don’t believe in luck. You were where you were supposed to be at that time. Living in the Present it was just something that needed to be wiped off my hand to continue with my original goal of getting my toddler out of the car to deliver her to her nursery school teacher.

My conclusion is that I’ll be the optimist in this scenario and wait for good fortune to find me.

Mother Banshee

What is this in the mirror that I see?
A mother of two that I did not want to be.
I wanted to be a mother for sure,
But now this task I can not endure.

I scream and shout all the day long.
A screaming banshee gone wrong.
How is it that I have become
That terrible, horrible mum,
Whom I disapprovingly wish to stop

Scolding their child in the shop?

To myself I want to say,

That I’ll never talk to my child that way,
But that vow lays long since broken,
Harsh words to my children I have spoken.
Now when I glance upon a mother banshee,
My only thought is, that is me.

What damage do I inflict,
When my ugly shouts I do evict,
Straight into the ears of my little brats,
During our eternal spats?

All that remains when this is done,
Is guilt, self loathing and the urge to run.
Perhaps I should never have procreated,
For as a mother, I am poorly rated.