It seems that I am consistently striving for balance in all areas of my life. Recently I’ve been aware of the need for moisture balance—when it rains we are always wanting the sunshine, when it is sunny for too long we crave the rain. The ultimate quest is for a bit of both, the balance—just right for our psyche and for our gardens. In my yoga practice, the balance poses remind me of that ever-present need for being poised, stable and steady in my daily life.

 I search for this balance in my busy daily doing—the breathing out and the breathing in. Last night I picked up a book that I have not opened in years. It is a classic, as relevant today as when it was first written in 1955. A Gift from the Sea by Anne Morrow Lindbergh is a gem of a little book.  It was her words I took with me into sleep last night . . .

                “The problem is. . .more basically: how to remain whole in the midst of the distractions of life; how to remain balanced, no matter what centrifugal forces tend to pull one off center; how to remain strong, no matter what shocks come in at the periphery and tend to crack the hub of the wheel. . .There is no easy answer, no completely answer . . .and perhaps a first step is in simplification of life . . .But how? Total retirement is not possible. I cannot shed my responsibilities. I cannot permanently inhabit a desert island. I cannot be a nun in the midst of family life. I would not want to be. The solution for me, surely, is neither in total renunciation of the world, nor in total acceptance of it. I must find a balance between these two extremes; a swinging of the pendulum between solitude and communion, between retreat and return. In my periods of retreat, perhaps I can learn something to carry back into my worldly life.”

 So, with a deep full breath, I take this notion of balance into a new day and will work with it each and every day, I suppose. May you find your own center amidst your own version of chaos!