I don’t think I’ve ever considered myself a balanced person. Either by association or practice, extremes were where I was (am?) at home. In my mere existence the paradox of blissful joy and incoherent anguish coexist with me at any given moment. When brushing your teeth is still an acutely painful moment of existence, the whole concept of mindfulness becomes more of a survival mechanism than an eye roll. Be here now is a concept I become familiarized with whether I want to or not. Thankfully, I do want to. So in coexisting with extremity on a day to day basis I seek out the shades of gray that don’t feel like I might explode.
In experiencing others live their extremes however, I became aware that I wasn’t as extreme in everything as I thought I was. Which ironically enough, scared me, at first. Like if I’m not my extremes, who am I? If I’m not my sadness, my anxiety, my fight and struggle, then who am I?
Then I remember.
There have been moments of my life, brought on very strongly by school or friends or meditation or just a moment where i see and feel and know and remember and understand it’s all ok. Joy is such a strong part of who I am that even in moments of deep despair I can feel the Me-Ness and know somehow not to give up.
Which is hard. You need the right motivation which isn’t always easy or constant. And I understood that about myself and spend my life actively seeking ways to make life bareable. Enjoyable. Blissful. Desireable. Liveable. Exciting. Fulfilling. Enriching. Meaningful.
Balance is essential to this. And Monday is such a bad word in our present society. Not balanced. The return to the “harsh” “reality”
How do we exist like that?
I can’t. I stopped existing. I was barely surviving. There was a list of things I’d have to do.
My days had to be balanced. And as someone living in extreme, I learned abut balance as a palpable skill. A tool that I could actively use to make life what I felt it was supposed to be.
So Monday could not be an extreme. I need gentleness in my body and my life. Softness. Sharp edges cut me; I have thick skin but every lash hurts as much as the first one. Life is a constant state of the Mondays and there is already a harshness to it depending on our context why replay that inside of ourselves?
I am always starting over anyway, so I figured I’d start over with intention.
Was I going to spend my Sunday in anxiety over what had to be done? Or was i going to shape life to fit what i could handle?
It can’t be a blunt movement into something I don’t want. Otherwise I never achieve anything good and constantly feel like I’m fighting someone else’s struggle and my achievements don’t feel meaningful. Am I making a difference in any ones life? How about my own?
So inside me, with all the resources I have, I take it easy, and make Monday be a celebration of some kind. Look forward to Monday. Make it a day of joy. Where the whole point is to make the effort to be good. Happy. Make the healthier decisions. Have fun. Take it easy. Be loving towards myself. Smile at myself. Soften. Whatever I need.
All while being actively participant in my life and working towards something in the future. Investing in someone and letting someone invest in me. Allowing myself to be the lead in my life all while recognizing the supportive roles. Where would I be without them? No matter what, not better than now. It’s about active gentleness. Peaceful action. Soft rebellion. Being a worthy lead for myself.
Monday becomes the war cry and roundtable for my dreams and joy to quietly play and come into action. It’s a new beginning into the reality I actually want all the while leaping a little into the abyss. Taking a leap of faith. Daring a little.
Trying again. I flip it around.
I cheat Monday, and I live the life I want to live.