Our world is in a bit of a state right now. As I write this, the U.S. just dropped bombs in Iran, the president casually dropped the f-bomb while talking to the press, and everything feels… unhinged. That’s the backdrop we’re all trying to navigate while attempting to keep our own systems running. It’s like trying to meditate during a fire drill.
We’re constantly calibrating and recalibrating, chasing this idea of balance. I laugh because I just realized the tagline for this blog is “Living a fit life in balance.” I might need to change that. I started this blog forever ago—I couldn’t even tell you when—and I’m a very different person now. And lately, I’ve been realizing something:
Balance is a myth.
No, seriously. There is no magical middle point where everything feels stable and perfectly aligned. That moment you think you’ve found it? Gone in the next second because someone’s yelling “Mom!” or the news is on fire—again.
Which brings me to the most amazing thing I did recently: I got a hotel room. Alone. Not far from my house. Just me, myself, and nearly 24 hours of freedom. It was a Mother’s Day gift I jokingly requested, but my husband came through like a champ. And let me tell you—it wasn’t glamorous. I was at a Best Western off the highway. But it. Was. Glorious.
I watched “Friends,” “Big Bang Theory,” and a little “Harry Potter.” I read. I ordered in. My husband even made me a double Manhattan to take with me (he gets me). It was simple, and so deeply necessary. No one needed me. I didn’t have to answer to anyone. I remembered who I was when I wasn’t “on.”
During that quiet time, I started reading a book that introduced a new idea: balance-ing. Not balance. Not a static destination. But an action. A constant shift, like staying upright on a bike. You lean left, then right, adjusting to the road as it changes underneath you. You’re never really still, and that’s the point.
Life isn’t meant to be perfectly balanced. It’s meant to be lived in motion.
So here’s what I’m taking with me:
- The world will keep being loud and chaotic. I don’t have to carry all of it.
- Self-care doesn’t have to look like a luxury spa or Instagram-worthy retreat. Sometimes it’s a highway-adjacent Best Western and sitcom reruns.
- Instead of chasing balance, I’m learning to embrace the art of balance-ing—of staying upright, shifting as needed, and forgiving myself when I wobble.
“Balance isn’t something you find, it’s something you practice in motion.”
Let go of the myth of perfect balance. Take your break, however small or silly it looks. And keep adjusting—gracefully, messily, and in motion.