What is balance?

What is balance? The elusive state of being that we all seek out and desire. Balance between home and work. Balance within the family. Balance within yourself.
I finally found my balance quite by accident. Literally. I had been in a high stress job for over a decade and it was beginning to wear on me. I alternated between depression and agitation. I spent all of my patience at work and had none left for my husband or three children once I got home. I had terrible stress headaches. Then, I had an accident at work.
What it was and who was at fault is not really important. What is important is that the accident put me out of work for nearly a year. At first, I was upset. Then I found myself dreading the day that the doctors would send me back.
Being home with my kids felt right. My stress headaches were gone. I was happy. The kids were happy. My husband was happy. And while being a full-time mom was stressful, it was a good kind of stress.
The day came when the doctors cleared me to go back to work. While I we were scraping by with the worker's comp payments, we simply could not be a one-person income kind of family. Grudgingly, I sent the email saying that I was ready to return to work. They sent me an email back saying that they had long since filled my position. At first I was hurt, but that was quickly overshadowed by the possibilities that awaited me.
For the first time since college, I had the opportunity to decide what I wanted to be. I knew what I wanted. Balance. A job that helped us out financially, allowed me to spend quality time with the kids, and gave me a sense of purpose. In the months that followed I spent a lot of time researching the possibilities. I had a strong educational background in teaching, specifically special education. I loved writing. I loved creating. I loved art. I loved the environment. I had my certification as a yoga teacher (which up until now had gone unused).
I decided to go full force into the world of yoga. I went back to the curriculum I had written when I was training for my certification. It involved yoga, music, and art from recycled materials (merging my love to create and my love of the earth together). The job was a dream come true. I reached a deal with the school system that I would teach in the after-school program for at-risk youth. I work three afternoons a week, which gives me plenty of time to spend with my kids. My kids are less wild and more well-rounded. I am much more patient with everyone. My life, which was total chaos before, finally feels right. Balanced. A little work and a lot of family. Perfect.

I yam what I yam

I have a confession to make: I am a recovering yeller. A real, out-of-control, top-of-my-lungs yeller. I would yell when I would drop a glass. I would yell when I stubbed my toe. Worst of all, I would yell at my husband and children.

It was terrible and I felt terrible. But amidst the whirlwind of my daily life with three small children, I didn't see a way to stop. I practiced yoga to try to calm myself, but couldn't seem to carry the principles over to my everyday life. Not until the day when my seven-year-old wrote me a letter.

It was a simple letter, written on a torn-out piece of notebook paper in his scribbley handwriting. All it said was "Mom, I'm sorry I was bad. Please stop yelling at me. It scares me when you yell".

My heart just broke. I sat down and sobbed. I had grown up in a volatile household and now I was creating one for my own children. I had to stop.

I began to take my yoga practice more seriously. I did it daily, learning new and more challenging poses, pushing my body to the edge while pushing my anger out. I practiced new breathing techniques. I meditated. Then, I began to change.

Now I am not going to sit here and tell you that I am a master at yoga. In fact, I am not your typical yogi. I am short and fat (having not lost those pesky baby pounds from my third child). I also have a congenital spinal condition which results in pain and limited range of motion in my back. But yoga has physically, mentally, and spiritually changed my life.

I am proud to say that I have significantly decreased my yelling. While I still have the occasional blow-up, I am much more calm and serene. I use my breathing exercises and my mantra ("serenity now" from George Costanza on the Seinfield series) to get through the anger storms.

I recently got another letter from my seven-year-old. It read "Mom, I love you. You are the funnest and bestest Mom ever". Simple. Straight-forward. Enough said.