Balancing Act

You know what I’m terrible at? The seesaw. It’s true. I only weigh 140 something pounds, maybe 150 after a barbeque, but surely not enough to manage the seesaw. I can never find the right balance. Everybody is bigger than me. I always end up stuck at the top, waiting for my partner-in-fun to step away so I can crash to the ground, so I can step away myself. As I do, I rub the bottom with the left. I wipe the tears with the right. Sometimes it’s different; sometimes I switch hands. It is never a pleasant experience, no matter how enjoyable the other kids make it look.

Did I just say kids? I did, huh? Woops. So maybe the truth is I haven’t been on a seesaw in a while. Maybe my idea of a seesaw is based on a sad experience during 3rd grade recess. Excuse me if it still stings. I’m still not getting on a seesaw anytime soon. As far as I know everybody is still bigger than me, I’ll still end up stuck at the top, I still can’t find the right balance.

I never can find the right balance. Not on a seesaw, not on a tightrope, not in life (Note: I’ve never tried a tight rope, I just know I can’t do it). I’ve pretty much given up on the whole balance idea. Although the life thing, the ability to balance things in life, I’d like to know how to do that. God knows I could use it.

I’m slowly realizing that the gap between what I want to do and what I’m able to do is bigger than I thought. I want to write (more than school papers), I want to build websites (learn how to build websites I should say), I want to preach (not at you, but for you). I want to make a difference. I’m able to do none of that. I’m able to wake up and go to work every morning. I’m able to read school books. I’m able to write school papers. No time for anything else. All these things I want to do, they hold less weight. They’re stuck at the top while the stuff I’m able to do does all the work.

Here’s the real problem: Everything I’m able to do, I want that too. I want work, I enjoy it. I want school, I enjoy that. Maybe I want too much. Maybe I can’t have everything I want. Or maybe I can, if I can find the right balance. A little of this, a little of that. Back and forth, like a see-saw is supposed to work. I’m sure I can. I want to.