Most of us have trouble juggling. The woman who says she doesn’t is someone whom I admire but have never met.
Barbara Walters
When I was working full-time while taking care of my family, home, and what seemed like a million other responsibilities, I dreamt of juggling multitudes of balls without stopping. I feared that if I dropped one, it would be a catastrophe. In the morning, I woke up exhausted.
As I grew older, I thought, there would be fewer balls to juggle and life would become easier. Now that I am older, I realize I was wrong. Some of the balls may change in size or weight, but the juggling doesn’t stop. Family, health, friends, and work are still spinning through the air, daring me to drop even one of them. Since retiring, I’ve substituted volunteering for work. It’s something I enjoy doing.
The dreams have changed, too, though the pressure feels familiar. I sometimes dream about being required to sort things into the correct bins, much like the children’s toy with shapes that fit into matching slots. It’s important not to make a mistake. My concern isn’t so much who is watching as how much my screwup will affect everyone involved.
I imagine the pressure and stress of that dream reflect my life in some ways. I think it would be fair to say I’m rather tightly wound. I’ve decided to stop reprimanding myself for it and accept that it’s part of who I am.
Through the years, I’ve read zillions of books, taken legions of classes, and attended a slew of seminars on managing stress. I’ve meditated, journaled, and exercised. Here’s what I’ve finally decided: I’m going to accept myself in all my imperfect glory.
Will I try to do better? Yes, I will. What I will no longer do is stress out over the fact that I’m stressed. It’s time to cut myself some slack.
Peace be with you.
If you’re new here, welcome. I write about aging with grace, finding beauty in everyday life, and the quiet moments that remind us what matters most. I’m so glad you’ve stopped by.
Leave a Reply