Balance & Breaks

According to Google, “balance” can be defined as the following:

Noun

“An even distribution of weight enabling someone or something to remain upright and steady.”

Verb

“Keep or put (something) in a steady position so that it does not fall.”

These definitions imply two things: One, the ability to keep steady. And two, the possibility of falling.

I’ve been toying with the idea of balance since my sophomore year of college. I even choreographed a short piece about it for one of my undergraduate dance classes. For more than three years now, it’s a concept I keep coming back to.

This is the first blog post I’ve written in over a month, and although I could blame this on life becoming busy and not having the time—which are valid excuses I must say—my lack of blogging just comes down to this: I haven’t felt like it.

Writing, and anything creative for that matter, comes in waves. Sometimes I feel like writing, sometimes I don’t. When I’m inspired, words feel like they write themselves and I’m just trying to keep up and jot them down fast enough. When I’m not inspired, writing feels messy and muddy, like I’m driving at night and can only see a few feet in front of me.

But each of these moments are important—it all goes back to that Thomas Edison saying, “success is 10% inspiration and 90% perspiration.” I believe you have to be ready when inspiration strikes, and not let these “aha moments” pass you by; but rarely is something perfect the first go round. Creative work is ever-evolving, and the molding and polishing of what you create takes time and patience. And sometimes patience is recognizing you’re not inspired, and allowing yourself to rest.

Life hasn’t been very eventful these days and I haven’t been inspired to write. I haven’t known what to write about. I’m not traveling and life is only now beginning to feel semi-normal after all this time. But the other day it occurred to me that what I could write about was staring me in the face: not writing.

I’ve found a lot of comfort in the quietness of this last year, more so than I thought I would. At moments I’ve felt unsteady and on the verge of falling, but during other moments I’ve felt confident and grounded. But the thing is, you can’t recognize steadiness unless you know what it feels like to fall. And you can’t fall, if you know how to steady yourself.

Although I haven’t been blogging as much, I’m still writing—in journals and for personal projects on the side. It feels like I’ve written as much as I can for a time where I've lacked external inspiration, and I never want to feel like I’m writing just for the sake of content; I’d rather write nothing than write nothing of substance.

I can’t imagine my life without writing, but I wouldn’t have anything to write about it if I didn’t live my life either. While I’m still figuring it all out, I’d prefer to work on finding a balance. I’ve used this year to write more, but I’ve also used this year to rest, and that in itself is a balancing act.