I imagine fledgling tightrope walkers must have very sore feet for a while. I remember the one and only time I went ice skating. I did really well; took to it like a natural and never fell even once, but the next day the soles of my feet hurt like hell. I joked that it was due to my feet hanging onto the blades so hard. I'm kind of feeling that way right now, only not in my actual, physical feet. It's more in whatever it is in me that keeps me grounded. My tenacity, perhaps. Balance.
I always dread this time of year. I start feeling the cloud drifting in right around my birthday in late September and it doesn't lift until January 1st. And every year I promise myself that next year will be better, that we will have gotten through this decade-long crisis and we'll be able to exhale and enjoy a little peace.
It's a white-knuckling time of year for far too many people these days and I know there are thousands of people who have it worse than we do. This really isn't about money though. It's about the pressure I feel to keep everyone's spirits up. Like a crazed cheerleader, I smile and laugh and try not to show how terrified I am and how guilty I feel. I have a deep-seated fear that if I go down, I'll take everyone with me. No one puts this on me but me. I'm working on it.
Finding balance is never easy, but as a Libra (the sign of the scales) I have an innate understanding that it takes moving forward one step at a time and not looking down, despite the fact that it feels like someone's back there kicking the rope that never seems to stop wobbling.
