Nexus/A Fine Balance

I’m thinking about balance today and specifically the nexus point between stillness and activity, between inspiration and insanity, between animation and obsession.  There is a place to strive for, I think, where your life totters happily.  This “place” is delicate, it is elusive, it is worth striving for.

Today, a holiday with no plans which is fine.  I woke feeling sad and unmotivated but I compelled my limbs to embrace the day.  I made the bed, did some laundry, tidied up and discovered, in a drawer I never use, Patrick’s sneakers – I had given him a drawer and the shoes were the only things that were ever put in it – they were left behind when he gathered to himself all his personal effects on the last day we spent together.  Seeing the left behind shoes was a blow – I think I visibly took a step back and put my hand to my chest.  I said aloud, “Oh, Patrick…your shoes!”  And then when the tumult of that moment subsided, I dared to hold them.  I clutched them to myself and cried.  I am ashamed to say, I even smelled them, hoping for what, I’m not sure.  A moment later, I actually made myself laugh as I thought, “I could be a real weirdo and have them bronzed!  Now that would give my friends something to worry about!”

Reminds me of Tuda, one of the greatest cats who has ever graced this earth. . The human/feline boundary dissolved nightly when she settled on my chest.  Any agitation I was feeling dissipated when she stretched her length along my belly and nestled her head under my chin.  The rumbling of her purring seemed to resonate in my organs and, like an orchestra tuning up, the discordancy in me was stilled and life was in tune.  She was a magic cat.  And I joked, as she got older, and I wasn’t sure how I could live without her, that, as soon as she died, I would quickly stretch her out on my body in the same position she always assumed, and wait until rigor mortis set in.  I would then take her stiffened body to a taxidermist and have her preserved and finally I would have a purr motor and a heating pad installed in her so that I would be able to, after her death, be able to experience her still, lay her corpse on my chest, flip on the heating pad and the purring motor and things would be as they always were…kind of.  I horrified my kids with this rumination….they thought I was serious…they were relieved when she died and I simply had her cremated.

I digress this morning.  I forced myself into my healthy routine where my and Joey’s needs would be met.  To the beach we went and once I was out, I felt good.  The air is crisp today, the first jacket day of the season.  As we walked along the lakefront path, I felt connected to everyone I passed and I said to myself, “You know who I love?  People who are out in the morning taking care of themselves. .You now who I don’t love?  People in malls.”  Don’t ask me where that thought came from, but there it was.  I saw a youngish handsome man standing on the rocks, stock still, looking out to the lake.  I worried about him..he looked incredibly sad and pensive.  Later, on the walk back, he was still there, staring out to sea.  I thought to talk to him, to ask him if he was OK, and then it came to me that he would be fine. A person who could get up bright and early, who could dress himself well, who could get his sad self to the beach and be comforted by the crashing waves – would be fine.  He was allowing the healing power of the lake, the repetitive action of the waves to still his mind.  Such a better choice than, say, shooting up heroin.

It was energetic on the beach this morning – the wind whipped and the waves crashed.  The dogs kicked up their heels more than usual and flocks of geese flapped furiously in formation, making little progress against head winds.  Excitement in the air – and yet I sat still and waited and observed.  I will talk more about the magic spot I strive for where I can feel alive and yet tranquil, where I can be comforted by routine yet animated by novelty, where I can embrace the needs of the day but not be dulled by routine.  I love the idea of how a train conductor has to manage the simultaneous ascent and descent of a train as it crests a hill.  Think of it.  When a train goes up and then down a hill, it has to balance upward and downward motion at the same time!  The front of the train is braking as it comes down the hill at the same time as the rear of the train is accelerating and pushing its way up the hill.  If the conductor doesn’t manage the braking and accelerating JUST right, the train will decouple.  And that is what the nexus is all about – it’s the skill we apply to our lives to mange the simultaneous and often contradictory needs we have.  It’s the balance we strive for.

The challenge today is to think about whether your life is in balance. Are you taking care of your infrastructure at the same time as you are reaching for the stars?  Are you embracing both stillness AND cacophony?  How do you manage dual needs for alone time versus the need for human connections?  What do you do each day to still your mind and what do you do to animate it?  It’s all about balance and finding that sweet spot.

Peace,

Sarah