Holy Buckets of Balance.

By December 30, 2020 October 29th, 2022 Food for thought

I’ve been out of sorts lately.

I don’t think that means I need to call a doctor or zoom a therapist type of out of sorts… yet. And as of right now, I’ve given myself the prognosis of good that I’ll get out of this funk. I’m hoping to make the right strides in to get away from those uneasy mental and emotional waters noticeably ahead.

The first step is realizing there’s a storm coming, right?

I’m processing through all of the warning signs and symptoms and can’t help but feel like this self diagnosis stuff of my mental state is very similar to the coronavirus from China.

Who’sa What’sa?

I feel like there’s many signs and symptoms that might be normal, everyday things that I, like the rest of us, have grown used to having as a constant threat in our health, yet like the Rona, if I don’t get tested I may never know if I lived through it and got over it or not.

Sort of like in Halloween, when there’s that one character walking down the sidewalk and oblivious that Mike Myers was ready to pounce but fate intervened and you escaped his clutches without ever knowing you were in them. Is that how a-symptomatic feels?

So rather than being the sidewalk girl leaving it up to fate when you actually see danger coming your way, You prevent it. That’s the balance of getting ‘healthy’ according to the wheel of your physical, mental, social, economical, emotional and spiritual well being.

I must be off balance.

I’ve decided for the past year that if anything good has come from this redistricting reset for personal growth, it reinforces the theory of mini retirements as good for the soul. I want to get there soon.


Therefore, I must create a livelihood(s) of incomes that allow me to dictate my schedule and give honest yet effective timelines to continune the earnings throughout the rest of my life with bursts of retirement until I can do more of those timelines for enjoyment.

Mouthful. Had to rest my hands for a second.

The last nearly ten months feels like a blink in time. It kinda does, yet I remember the whole timeline vividly like restricted whips of the disappointment lashes on our current life. My livelihood requires non-stop work, in person, while trying to start up a couple business ideas, keeping up with the household, enjoying my family and social outlets of fun, the daily changes of a country in pandemonium and how to get through it all with somewhat of a waistline figure.

Is 2020 a bohemian rhapsody prophecy? Is this the real life?
Is this just fantasy?
Caught in a landslide
No escape from reality
Open your eyes
Look up to the skies and see
I’m just a poor boy, I need no sympathy
Because I’m easy come, easy go
A little high, little low
Anyway the wind blows, doesn’t really matter to me, to me

Realizing several signs that I may be overly withdrawn, creatively drained and slipping on self esteem, I created a defense plan to consciously use mental buckets layered with compartmentalized emotions to disconnect from the constant brain flow activity of guilt and obligation and reflection of character.

Brain boxes to shove disappointments, discouragements and outrageous people divisions. I try to break it out in different percentages now to try and get that balance in the wheel of health. That was the plan anyway.

Disregard the negatives which are surmounting and gathering up the positives and look for them in every moment.

I read that and think, yeah. I have done rather well at this considering all the extra layers of corruption that are visible now and with no regard for any of us worker bees.

So why are those warning rapids ahead getting bigger? Closer to warning levels. Not willing to regress back, I gotta push forward with a vision for my family’s future in an uncertain country.

Not Today.

Eff you hives. Not today.

Eff you vices. I got stuff to do later. Not today.

So, there’s lots of creeping symptoms that I may be getting older which, c’mon. What does that even mean?

Side rant – “Getting Old” needs to evolve.

It means that every soul born to this Earth starts their own clock of time and self evolution.

Our circumstances of how we enter this thing called life are not ours to choose and all we can do is make the best of it to the capacity we are able to as we evolve to get better.

I’m still the driver within this body of gender, tint and current zip code. And moment of arrival. 1976.

According to undeniable facts, I’m officially able to say I’m half way through what we can expect to spend here. I’m at the peak of seeing through generations people I love leaving and new generations of my tribe arriving that I couldn’t imagine all these years without.

Hence the question, what are we doing?

What am I doing?

I’m justifying for self, to justify tolerance, to justify another day justifying for self.


The balances that we must juggle is curious.

There’s work/life balance.

There’s mental/physical/emotional/spiritual balance.

There’s eating/exercising balance.

There’s past/present/future balance and what we gain from each.

I think the more we learn to share those lessons is by identifying them and telling them to others in the ways we can.

Perhaps then I can say, I’m at a stage where I have a trove of authentic stories to share of lessons learned to those ahead or behind me in age.

I’m also at that stage where I am hugely fascinated when others authentically share theirs.

Sometimes, when I’m feeling like I’m in a safer share zone I tell some zingers to help set the stage of sharing any crazy story found to be amusing, enlightening or even possibly unbelievable and a deep discussion about it ensues.

So what do all these balances and buckets mean and what is the right recipe?

I think about those cooking shows Tiff watches and how they roll out this layered food card of ingredients in whole with no directions but to figure it out.

One competitor may make soup and another one may make a pie and then a panel of judges picks which one they liked best.

Forget the judges in my solution center story for myself here.

Back to the cart of ingredients that are random and if a typical Kroger mom had them without a pinterest app, we’d probably figure out if we should open a can of peas or add a box of garlic bread to the hunk of meat and use the rosemary as a garnish.

If you are the one who lasts each week and wins the judges favor for Chef genius, it’s probably because you spent time learning from experienced teachers in schools or kitchens or families who have the desired gift of culinary art.

I respect it. I’m glad I have friends who experience it and share it with me.

“I know a guy” can’t happen unless you share stories with people who shared stories with you.

I want to be in balances and buckets to reach the peak of my purpose. If you don’t analyze and see each other for who we all are – all the exact same ingredients on a tray with no recipe for what success looks like – then why can’t we figure this out for ourselves?

We aren’t sharing our recipes. Yet we all have the same ingredients.

Stay with me here. Ingredients meaning – majority human species want to belong and feel safe. To protect your family and not struggle to achieve a better level of livelihood than you were currently not content with for sustainability.

Ready to rock this Pyramid of balance bucket holders for humanity?

That good ole pursuit of the American dream with a picket fence is the Truman Show of reality regardless of your physical features or current zip code or life time clock that is predetermined for you to end at any moment.

Lately I’ve been using my mind cash on digging into where I lost my ground on heading into that darker water that I have no intentions of going towards any more now that I’ve recognized my balances are off, even though from a reflection standpoint of no EKG’s or allergies or weekly life coaches are needed to see that storm out there in the distance and bail away from it.

I’m just bummed I’ve been scooting towards it. And obviously I’m not too deep because I still haven’t ordered that food allergy test, had anyone comment on my weight gain or appeared slacking to coworkers. That I know of.

I spent so much time figuring out the right calendar balance of work, creating new income and sorting out the constant flow of thoughts through writing and talking that I could figure out the plan to get more solid blocks of truly free time in the life of myself and those close to me that I want to enjoy it with.

Then I figured out based on obligations to stay afloat with those, I will take that balance wheel and balance it up next to my balance of self obligations of being a great mother, wife, friend, sister, cousin, coworker, employee, business partner, board member.

With those balances in balance, I then spent time determining how I inject my well being balance in there. For me this means cooking healthy, eating less, cutting back on alcohol, treadmill or walk every other day at least and get physical work as often as you can, drinking lots of water. I really want to mediate. And read more like I used to. And lose 15 pounds. That’s all.

Then there’s the personal fulfillment balance that comes with all those title above of who you are to other people in your life. Does the church need a couple dozen cookies? Is there a potluck at work? Paint the living room? Replace the shower? Mow the lawn? Dinner date? Go see grandma? Well, zoom now. Covid.

Oh, and in my current timer of 44 years and 8 months, I really need at least 7 hours of sleep every night and I’ll still have a need for 10 on the weekend. Unless that’s another symptom of me having the mental blues water ahead and will improve when I improve.

Like an intricate watch, we must balance our balances when each of it’s own could absorb the time each day count has to offer.

I’ve overbooked my body and my mind is constantly in Go mode while my body is begging for excuses to justify not doing it’s part.

Like my brain already painted the living room in 18 different shades but my body won’t go to Lowe’s and buy the one we picked out together in my head.

That whole paragraph above about the obligations from starting a new business to potlucks and blood drives is the good stuff.

Here’s good stuff:

Helping people who appreciate it in an impactful way to feel compelled to find a way to do something for someone else is probably the biggest fuel power we’ve got.

I know I need to realize I am good enough and I still add value to the bottom line of this time clock and community. Depending on who you ask and on what day during which designated time block of compartmentalized emotion to get through the motions of that task, they may say I’m slacking. Or unavailable. Or not responding.

I see the waters ahead and even though I realize I disappoint people every day and I’ll never know about it because I didn’t realize it and no one said so. I am sure I do. My inner voice reminds me every now and then.

What if I Let Go, Let God? What if we all did?

I realize the vices that hold me back and tell them Not today. Nope. Not today.

And the rest, I do my best.

Rather than break up who I am by where I’m at or what balance wheel check box it’s checking, I throw all of it out the window?

What if I get through all this muck of tasks that I let accumulate as I am out of balances and sorts and clear out the negative ions or vibes all over us every where we go as much as possible?

Every single thing I am doing I do because I think is a good thing it’s just alot of things. The more I race over all of them the more ideas, directions, thoughts and concepts roll around and eat up all my mind cash.

I am going to try to set up the next balance of two things. How I am sharing stories and how I am listening to new, motivating stories. The rest can figure it out.

How to share my recipes and how to collect others for a full book. I’ll be my own Pioneer Woman of stories. Two buckets.

The best way to collect them is to travel, visit and take every interaction as an opportunity for story transactions.

Then it’s not putting our heads in the sand and appreciating the positives in our lives to justify why no action is the right action in seeking true, authentic stories.

The true stories always find a way.

If we share our stories, listen to stories and apply all the lessons to our own recipe book for success – we can win. We can cook anything and allow each person the gift of a better timeline of healing.

Maybe then I can use my mind cash for a bigger question. How do we stop abuse? Where’s that vaccine?

Child abuse

Sex abuse

Elder abuse

Discriminant abuse

Mental abuse

Emotional abuse

Addiction abuse

Thanks for reading.


Let’s end some legacy bad stuff on this planet and quit worrying about all these dang buckets.

I’ve been thinking about all the ways we balance ourselves from going off the deep end and realized well, there’s too many buckets.

I have hope that understanding the new word I learned from watching it can reunite us all citizens. But it wasn’t made to do that. It was trickery.

As I sit and reflect on 2020 and my entire life before it, this silly sounding word, gerrymanding, sounds absurd saying it yet this one word encapsulates every single injustice we as Americans have accepted or complied to from the government using our taxed earnings. Mind blown. Pick a topic.

It should end all these divides that have happened to us all through social feeds, media reads, and bad corrupt deeds.

That is my hope. That is the start of the healing everyone needs – everywhere around this globe if we have any humanity left. I think we do.

Lately, I’d say introversion to social media is an understatement but I’m popping on here quick, and popping back out even faster, not even checking in on it.

It’s sad because I’m missing out on alot of people I care about but don’t talk to very often that are still using it the way we thought it was intended for – sharing news about ourselves. So yeah, I’m missing that connection but the time being I no longer want to propel these data giants further and will sacrifice those bursts of joy for others’ happiness or perhaps find a new way to share in a stream of busy.

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