On the Hunt for Balance

In an effort to stave off a serious chemical imbalance caused by chronic stress, I've decided that today, at least for a while, I am going to set aside all of the things that I have to do (like the studying, the housework, the grocery shopping, the hygiene... well, ok, maybe not that), run away with my camera, and simply feed my soul for a bit. While I would be lying if I said that I am soul-food starved (if any of you have been following my pictures, you will know that that would be a lie), I feel the niggling of a Great Depression in the deep recesses of my brain (and even a little in my toes) - a response to events accumulated over months. The random tears here and there for no apparent reason, along with this melancholy heaviness sitting on my shoulders, tell me that it is time to take a deep breath (or three) and let go of it all, reset, and force myself back into balance.

So in the spirit of the hunt for the Unbearable Lightness of Being (thank you, Milan Kundera), and a little bit of balance, I'll start here.

Landslide

Laying next to my little K last night, snuggling as he struggled into sleep as he always does, this song came on the radio that plays softly by his bed every night to ease his transition from consciousness into his dreams.  And for some reason, this night, the words of the song wrapped around me like a melancholy blanket, heavy and bittersweet.

These past months have been a challenge, watching a person I love desperately struggle with the spectre of relapse; holding k in my arms each night wondering if something about life might ever come easy for him; struggling to balance the choice I made to finally pursue the education I always wanted and being present enough to face the turbulent challenges of raising 3 kids, 2 of whom teeter on the cusp of adolescence and adulthood, the other who simply teeters, wondering where he might land.  And these things make me wonder where I might find that strength to make it through these seasons of my life - whether I can juggle all of the balls without dropping one; whether I can be the person I need to be for all of the people in my life and still be the person I need to be for me. (I would say these are the things that keep me up at night, but thank all the Gods there is medication for that.)   Thankfully, change doesn't scare me, but failing does.  Sometimes I feel like I'm digging out from a landslide, just trying to catch my breath before it shifts again, but somehow I always seem to get my feet beneath me and I'm that person I have no choice but to be, even when the prospect of it seems too overwhelming and I'd rather run away and hide for awhile.  But there is no hiding, I've learned; there is only the path forward and all those little moments of beauty to capture and sustain me when those days come and I can't seem to find the beauty anywhere.  Thankfully, even on those days, there is the knowledge that even if I can't see it, I know it is there to find tomorrow.