Buzz this: balance

Buzz words are irritating yet we all use them. It’s not unlike a new and more informed dialect of the language we already speak. A hyper-communication. I know *exactly* what you mean when you throw around the words “journey”, “balance”, “organic”.

Yet here I am writing an entire article on how out of balance I feel or rather – how gaining balance is quite an upsetting phenomenon. Some times. Like right now.

I’m always so surprised when my chiropractor points out how stressed I am. Always followed with the question: What’s new in your life?

Uh? We moved. Again.

Uh? We didn’t get the house. Again.

Uh? *blink blink*

I am numb. Being overwhelmed and stressed out has completely shut me down. I have memory loss issues and obviously battling the stress-weight issue, my health in general is down because the last few months of crazy are anything but a balanced existence.

Yet I stroke the life-boat of my family in the ocean of assurance hoping I’m heading towards land.

I feel like our emergency flares went bad when we decided to jump ship and swim with everything we thought valuable strapped to our backs.

We won’t drown! Keep swimming!

Do not deploy that life-boat yet, just 100 more yards.

And we hit a sandbar. We’re safe and finally gaining strength but our supplies are limited to the things we saved. The things we thought we needed so badly. We forgot to pack tents, clean water and food to get us through. Now we have a time frame on a sand bar with no sustainability and we’re still waiting for someone (something?) to shout “Now! Go!”.

Turns out my bodies Fight or Flight mentality is well aware of our surroundings and only when I’m asked am I conscious of them as well.

Otherwise happy to pretend this sandbar is exactly what we need. Tricking myself into believing that a healthy root system of a strong oak will settle wonderfully into the soil that can hardly hold us.

And I can see both sides winning – but I’m tired of convincing the loser of the moment mentality to keep your chin up. One of these days I’m going to forget who woke up first inside of me: The we’re going to make it side or The barely getting through it side.

And then what?

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