“Balance isn’t stillness-it’s learning to move with the swell.”
Life doesn’t always give us calm waters. Some seasons feel like standing on a wobble board, blindfolded, with a flaming baton in each hand. This past month, my plans have shifted like sand underfoot-surgery delays, uncertain travel, and the ache of not seeing my family. But I’m learning: balance isn’t about standing still. It’s about embracing the wobble and learning to sway with grace.
"It's not about standing still, but learning how to sway with grace."
When the Ground Shifts Beneath You
Let’s rewind. I had everything planned—flights to the U.S., hugs waiting on the other side of the world, and the long-overdue chance to be “Mom” and “Grandma” in person. I’ve been dealing with this knee issue for several months, but being the stubborn person that I am, I was convinced I could strong-arm my way through it with a bit of grit, a few stretches, and a prayer or two.
But it didn’t get better. The pain quietly intensified until it became a constant, clingy companion that refused to be ignored. Eventually, even I had to admit it wasn’t just a niggly nuisance—it was my body’s not-so-subtle way of demanding care. Surgery was scheduled. Travel was delayed. And tearfully, I had to accept that I wouldn’t be making the trip… not yet.
And while all of this was unfolding, the wedding date for my son in Morocco loomed ahead like a question mark dressed in a tuxedo. The hope of being present for such a beautiful milestone now hinged on healing timelines and flight schedules.
There were tears. There were heartfelt conversations with God—and equally heartfelt conversations with Bacchus, my ever-faithful dog, who listens patiently but mostly just wants snacks.
And yes, there were a few laughs too—like my current attempt to learn a bit of Arabic for the wedding. Let’s just say YouTube makes it look easier than it is. I’m stumbling through greetings and phrases, doing my best to pronounce things without butchering the beauty of the language. It’s humbling—but also strangely comforting to be learning something new in the midst of all this waiting. (Whether I’ll be understood is another story entirely, but I’m showing up, accent and all.)
If you talk to a man in a language he understands, that goes to his head. If you talk to him in your version of that language, he may just laugh and give you a hug.” – A lighthearted twist on the Nelson Mandela quote (Hopefully, that will be the case😊)
I’m not saying I’ve mastered balance. I’m saying I’m learning to keep dancing while the boat rocks.
The Sacred Sway of Balance
Balance is not static-it’s sacred swaying.
I used to think balance
Balance isn’t static—it’s sacred swaying.
I used to think balance meant achieving the perfect schedule, fulfilling every commitment, and never dropping the ball. But life has a way of knocking those balls right out of your hands. Now I know: balance is about accepting the drop. It’s not rigid stillness—it’s the art of shifting, adjusting, and softening into the moment you’re in.
It’s about holding space for sorrow and joy. For plans and detours. For certainty and chaos, and everything in between.
Balance, I’ve discovered, is also laughing in the waiting room, crying in the shower, and showing up to your own life anyway—even when your heart feels like it’s wobbling on one leg.
Three Ways to Embrace the Wobble
Three ways to Embrace the Wobble:
- Embrace the Uncertainty – Each night, write one sentence about something uncertain you accepted today. Maybe your plans shifted again. Celebrate your ability to stay present anyway.
- Create Anchors – Find tiny rituals that keep you grounded. A slow morning cup of tea. A five-minute creative pause with your camera or journal. A song that reminds you who you are.
- Laugh When You Can’t Cry – Make it your mission to find one funny thing every day (and share). Like your dog giving you serious side-eye because you’re doing chair yoga in his favorite sunspot.
Or the moment your phone’s autocorrect turns “surgery prep” into “sugar prep” — which honestly feels more fun.
Or trying to record an Arabic phrase from YouTube and accidentally asking your husband if he’s a potato.
Humor is holy ground — especially when life feels off-balance.
Note from the Wobbly Side
Normally, this is where you’d find a visual gallery—a slow scroll through stillness and light. But truth be told, I’ve been swaying a little too much lately to wrestle with the thousands of photos camped out in my Lightroom catalog. Let’s just say the only thing more unsteady than my knee right now is my folder titled “To Sort Someday.”
Instead, I’m leaving you with one joyful image: a small, determined bird grasping an oversized twig in its beak, building a nest one wobble and flutter at a time. Honestly, that bird is my spirit animal this week. While I’ve been working on finding my own kind of balance, it reminded me that showing up—with humor, heart, and the willingness to hold the next twig—is more than enough.
Closing Reflection: From My Wobbly Side 😉
“The Lord makes firm the steps of the one who delights in him; though he may stumble, he will not fall, for the Lord upholds him with his hand.”
A Closing Prayer
Dear God,
In the moments when life tilts and balance feels out of reach,
teach me to sway with grace instead of resisting the wind.
When plans unravel and pain lingers longer than I’d like,
remind me that even in the pause, I am being held.
Help me to laugh when I can, to rest when I must,
and to trust that healing comes not in perfect steps,
but in sacred, wobbly ones.
Amen.
With love, laughter, and magic,
may your week be beautifully off-balance—
a waltz between grace and grit.
Wishing you peace in the swaying and joy in the waiting.
