I’ve spent countless, fruitless hours with patient instruction at the feet of gifted masters, learning to keep my balls in the air.
I can get that first ball tossing smoothly from one hand to the other. I can feel the rhythm take hold of my soul as my fancy takes flight in a red blur of a single ball wizzing in a solitary hoop between my two hands. People passing by gasp at the almost effortless skill with which I pull off this masterpiece of concentration.
I call for a second ball. An excited onlooker grabs one up, tossing the lovely sphere into orbit between my ready hands.
The pressure intensifies.
Now there are two separate balls to keep moving, to keep spinning, to stay in flight without bouncing around my feet, burning up upon reentry from the stratospheric hights that they briefly inhabited.
Pay attention because THIS, this moment right here that I am going to describe, the “third ball” thrown into the loosely controlled chaos of my fumbling hands, THATS where it all falls apart for me.
I start dropping balls.
Not one or two, mind you, oh HELL no, I drop them ALL.
I drop them like Beyoncé drops singles,
like JZ drops rhymes,
like Trump drops staffers.
I drop them HARD.
I’m an expert at eating humble pie (any pie, really, I mean who doesn’t love pie?) and sweeping up my messes.
My gifts lie elsewhere.
I am an OUTSTANDING juggler of tasks and schedules. Puppy walk times, woven neatly into kid pick ups and drop offs, my crazy job schedule that takes me on any given shift from one end of the building, to the furthest ends of our district. Add to that vortex of crazymaking, the insanity of readying dinners, our tiny farm that needs daily tending, and a million and three equally top priority family “need right NOW!”s.
The list of figurative “balls” seems to increase exponentially with each passing day.
Smart people who really, really, REALLY want something done, and done right, ask me.
Or rather they ask busy people.
Busy people who are any good at their professional madness juggling abilities, understand how to prioritize, how to take it allllllllll in, how to keep the constantly increasing number of balls being thrown into the air at them, moving through that air without pause.
These people are able to focus on the most important pieces of each one, rapidly prioritizing and adapting.
We simply do not have time for silly games. Unless there’s time for silly games. Let’s face it: silly things are LOVELY, and infuse much needed joy into life.
Always make time for silly things. Life, is too short and just a wee touch “wackadoodle” to turn your back on participating in silliness. Silliness can totally turn morale around.
So this is how I juggle my crazy life, my crazy kids, my crazy job, and any unexpected balls tossed into the mix. This is how I manage to stumble and fail SPECTACULARLY and yet still have so much to offer.
It’s not tidy, it’s not organized, but it’s how I have it all.