The Sweet & Sour Juggle

I’m kind of a good juggler. (It’s random and not that exciting, but read more here if you’re curious.)

By definition, as a juggler you find dropping balls super annoying. And disappointing. And a reflection of your ability (or lack thereof).

There’s nothing sweet about dropping balls. Real or metaphoric.

The last few weeks, some unexpected “adventures” (trying to being kind here) made me drop balls left and right. Like New Years Eve & Groundhog Day throwing up on each other. It was annoying, disappointing, and, I obsessed, a reflection of my lacking ability.

But then the other day, through the clarity of a much needed run, a wave of warmth rushed over me. I realized a few really important things:

A lot of balls stayed in the air with helping hands. Through ties of blood, law, or blackmailable shenanigans, the people who always say they are there for me, were. They caught my stage dive and threw me back up. There are so many thank yous to share but suffice it to say, I’ll forever be front row at their shows.

Balls that did hit the ground haven’t rolled away. Some balls did drop. They hit the ground. Nothing earth shattering (as feared), just a solid plop. And then they waited patiently by my feet. With a little tlc and a gentle toss, they’re ready to get back in the flow. And slowly, one by one, they are.

The show goes on…and the audience can’t see backstage. We see the people around us and we write their stories, as seen through our own lens. There’s great beauty and great danger in that, but either way it reminds me to give the benefit of the doubt to the grumpy person who cuts in the Starbucks line whenever I have the strength to do so. She may really need that hot drink to deal with the hot mess of her backstage.

Maybe what I’m realizing is we can be thankful for our involuntary enrollment at the school of hard knocks. With some digging, we graduate with a little more strength and gratitude, go back on stage, and keep trying to take life by the balls. (ba-dum-cha)