Sometimes I have too many pots on the stove. Writing in multiple genres, editing, involvement in political actions, performing arts/fitness programs, volunteer work, domestic engineering (ha! ha!), raising an energetic, testosterone-laden boy and managing to coddle a husband who wants and needs my attention, leave me often feeling like I’m about to ignite. And that wouldn’t be pretty. Wait!—let me think about that—no, that would not be pretty. Besides, who wants to scrape little-miss-dancer-chick off the floor—before or after combustion?
Desiring to grow a set of octopus arms in order to have a hand in everything I believe I’ve missed my true calling: professional juggler. How did I get myself in this predicament? And to think, I’ve pondered going back to school to top it off.
Truthfully, the more items to tackle the happier I am. I suppose I relish busyness and even thrive in chaos. The stay-up-all-night-to-get-stuff-done doesn’t even bother me much (ehem…as much as it does those around me). It’s not altogether my fault. Ask members of my kin and they’d tell you the same thing about their own lives. Furthermore, it’s what society often demands from us these days.
Survival is for the fittest, they say. What they didn’t mention is that training is a lifelong commitment. So, it’s good to take a moment or two to remember how to breathe. Inhale, exhale, inhale…oh, right—exhale. And if it ever gets to be too much, you’ll probably find a tidy pile of ash right next to the 24-hour coffeepot. If that happens, just remember I wore a smile on my face.
A former contemporary dancer and missionary, Tessa Stockton, who also found involvement in politics and human rights groups, wrote The Unforgivable (RisenFiction April/2011)—a love story entangled in the aftermath of Argentina’s Dirty War. www.TessaStockton.com
