Well it was bound to happen sometime–I’m missing a deadline.  Bummer.  It’s not that I don’t care, or that I didn’t see it coming, or that I planned poorly…  Well maybe there was a little poor planning, and also some procrastination.  But I definitely care, and I’ve been thinking about what to write for days!  I just could not pull it together in time, this time.  It feels disappointing, and a little shameful.  I set the expectation for myself and my readers that I would post on the 10th, 20th, and 30th of the month.  My goal was to write material well in advance and schedule it to publish at midnight each day, and that worked the first few months…

And life has gotten in the way.  I’ll spare you the boring details, but suffice it to say that tonight I find myself overwhelmed by the number and complexity of tasks before me.  It’s all stuff I signed up for, that I care deeply about, and that I honestly want to do.  But there are only so many hours in the day and I feel some tough choices coming on.  …Sometimes I think maybe I’ll just push through, like riding a unicycle through a jungle, balancing a Lazy Susan in each hand and one on my head, each spinning precariously with objects of various sizes and shapes.  “I got this,” I think to myself.   But something is bound to fly off and crash to the ground, right?  Maybe it’s something small and replaceable.  That’s okay, I can get another one later.  It’s  the bigger, more valuable things I need to keep an eye on.  How fast are the Susans spinning?  How are they tilted?  Is the porcelain vase too close to the edge?  How will I feel if it flies off and cracks, or shatters?  Will it have been worth pedaling crazily through the rainforest on a one-wheeled circus vehicle?

I think I need to slow down, take a break, set the spinning discs down for a bit.  I can inventory the various objects, and discern the necessary from the recreational, from the extraneous.  I should do this before I lose something precious and irreplaceable.  That I carry them all on Lazy Susans while operating a moving machine is a given–that is just how life feels as a physician, mom, teacher, wife, writer, daughter, speaker, and friend.  And that’s okay.  Balance is a dynamic state; I can keep moving.

Maybe I can also let go my perfectionist tendencies, and allow for some flaws in my designs.  I can pad the fragile items, maybe affix them to the spinning discs more securely.  If they still fall off, they are already protected, at least somewhat.  I can practice posture, upper body strength, and control, so I can stay upright even if I pedal more slowly, more aware of obstacles and able to see a path ahead of me, rather than mindlessly bushwhacking with restaurant furniture.

Tonight I had grand plans for writing eloquently and profoundly on acceptance, grace, tribe, and friendship.  That will have to wait.  I hope the unicycle analogy at least gave you a laugh.  I need to remind myself to lighten up sometimes.  Not everything needs to be profound.  I can forgive myself a late blog post here and there.  I still care, and the writing still matters.  Now, off to find some bubble wrap…