Balance

Coming home is the hardest part of a trip. 

All the momentum gained in the previous days is wells up in my brain behind the reality that waiting on the other end of that three hour car ride from the airport is a mile long catch-up list and six kids who need to be reminded that I still love them after abandoning them for DAYS. 

I know not to plan any writing the first two days I am home. This trip—a week in Mexico, then a week in Florida while the middle boys were at camp at Embry-Riddle—ended with six hours on a plane, two hours at Ikea searching for their pop-up greenhouse, two hours to Port Gamble, a quick stop for bathrooms and ice cream, then the final hour home where I then debriefed my delightful mother on the general details of the trip—in a voice graveled by Florida air conditioner mold—while being plasterboarded by the small kids left behind. 

Sunday, all the ideas stewing in my head were growing elbows but between catching up on sleep and prepping for an afternoon CERT meeting nothing got on the page. I gave myself a happy little talk on self-kindness and releasing guilt and all which helped tamp down my case of the  “shoudsies”. Twelve hours of sleep later I started to feel human again.

Now, if I were a childless hermit with a strong commitment to disciplined creativity, Monday would have been the day to sit at my desk and churn out ten thousand words. Instead I packed a picnic, made some muffins, and took the crew to the lake for the afternoon. After two weeks of stifling temperatures and a haze of humidity, the breeze off Lake Crescent and a walk through the woods with my mom was perfect. The kids kayaked, we ate half a flat of local raspberries, and I still had enough energy to cook dinner when we got home.

Today I’m writing because I feel like it. Not because of a line on my to-do list (even though there 100% is a writing line on my to-do list) but because the story is there and I feel called to put it on paper. 

I used to assume that life balance would happen naturally if I made enough lists, or cut out the right things, or learned to say No Thank You. Lately I’ve come to realize that finding balance is a skill that I have to practice; I have to look at the big picture of what needs to get done while at the same time checking in with my body and mind and asking “is this the right thing to be doing now?”

Today I am killing the balance game—likely because I am hyper focusing on it—and things feel great. Tomorrow? Who knows? But at least I know the right questions to ask.