The Balancing Act

Staying Grounded in a Shifiting Season

We encounter specific moments in life when we’re pressed to participate in a quiet balancing act—not the kind that asks us to walk a tightrope, but one that nudges us to maintain a rhythm—a flow—that keeps us feeling connected, creative, and whole.

The Return to Rhythm

I’m in one of those moments now. After two years of full retirement, I’ve returned to work. Not because I had to—but because I wanted to. I missed the micro-encounters with like-minded people, the small exchanges that fill a day with meaning. And sure, tossing a few extra coins into my older person’s piggy bank doesn’t hurt either. 😉

I love my job—working in a museum and garden setting. But now I’m navigating how to fold this new (yet familiar) rhythm back into a life I’ve spent the last few years shaping carefully around creativity, calm, and reflection.

Creative Flow Without Force

So, how do I hold onto this creative space—this sanctuary I’ve built—without forcing everything else to fit around it? How do I let it thread through naturally without disrupting the flow?

Right now, mornings feel like spring, with afternoons leaning into summer. My schedule is shifting. My senses are heightened. And the new environment I’ve re-entered—the museum and the gardens—are inviting me to sharpen my awareness and pay attention.

“Flow is the natural, effortless unfolding of our lives in a way that moves us toward wholeness and harmony.”

Charlene Belitz & Meg Lundstrom

The Gentle Tug

There’s a persuasive tug going on—one direction keeps me rooted in the creative rhythm I’ve grown to love, while the other opens up new windows of experience.

But I’ve learned that balance doesn’t mean control. It’s not about stuffing my life with tasks and expectations. It’s about noticing the moments that want to unfold and allowing myself to be present.

“It is not the length of life, but depth of life.”

Ralph Waldo Emerson

Presence Is the Practice

Mindfulness and presence are my anchors. They’re how I’ve learned to tell better stories and notice the things I once overlooked.

I don’t need neon signs to guide me. I’m okay tiptoing, adjusting, even stumbling—until I find that smooth glide again. The one that carries me without strain. The one that’s quietly waiting.

Balance as a Way Forward

Balance, I’ve found, isn’t about perfection. It’s about permission.

Permission to slow down.

Permission to trust what’s unfolding.

Permission to say no to what doesn’t serve me.

When I stay grounded, I notice more. When I let things unfold, they surprise me. And when I stop trying to do everything at once, I’m reminded of just how rich the quiet parts of life can be.

“Almost everything will work again if you unplug it for a few minutes…including you.”

Anne Lamott

The Seasoned Soul

We’ve all experienced many seasons, but the seasoned soul knows how to move through them with grace. It understands that the calendar doesn’t define us—our awareness does, and our willingness to listen does.

And maybe that’s what I’m leaning into now—not a new season, but a deeper way of being in the one I’m in.

Where are you right now in your balancing act? Are you rushing forward, or easing your way in? Are you feeling steady, or looking for the next foothold?

Wherever you are, know this: You’re allowed to pause. To wait. To recalibrate. You can slow down long enough to let your inner rhythm rise again.

Talk soon…

G