I think the mind (my mind) works in the same manner as a web search works. You know when you go to Google something (you know you Google) and it directs you to your page but then once you get to your page there’s an interesting link that relates to your page and so you click on the interesting link on your page and it takes you to another interesting link on another interesting page and pretty soon you’re 10 links away from your original link and you can’t quite remember why you needed the original link in the first place because where you ended up seems to have put you in another completely different Google mindset? Do you know that feeling? This is often my brain at work, my thought process.
Here’s my most recent example. And, by recent, I mean when I started to write this post because it’s happened several times since beginning, but fortunately I was able to come back here and regroup… wait, what were we talking about? Oh yes, my often scattered thought process.
I read a post, by the lovely and talented Judy Clement Wall, about being vulnerable, really. At least that was my take away from it — vulnerability in life, in blogs, in friendships… everywhere. And how, sometimes, we just have to give in to the vulnerability because if we don’t, we stand to lose out on some interesting experiences, life-long friendships, and personal growth.
It amazes me how lonely we can feel in a world so crowded. I think that’s why little acts of kindness never feel little, why we are biologically altered by each others touch, why love makes us feel so alive and endings sometimes feel like little deaths… Judy Clement Wall
So there we are, in the middle of balancing feelings of being alive when our lungs are filled to capacity and little deaths that hurt… and take our breath away. Vulnerability.
Another lovely and talented lady, Terre Pruitt, spun her own web of wonder from this post. Terre is an instructor in Nia. I don’t really understand Nia but am growing more and more interested in the practice.
…in Nia being barefoot is about exercising the feet, but it also is about being aware, being present, being open, and being free and some people need to work up to that. — Terre Pruitt
When I read Terre’s post, I began thinking about my own bare foot naked wiggly toed self — and vulnerability — and balance. And here’s where my scattered thoughts brought me… to the beach.
I love the beach, although, in Tennessee, the nearest beach is around a 7 hour drive (that’s alone, without stopping and without kids — you get the idea), so when I arrive there, I smell it and I feel it and I let it take me away. I love standing right at the edge of the ocean where the water continually comes up to cover your feet and your toes and as it does, it takes the sand from underneath you, just enough so that your footing becomes unsteady. And in that unsteadiness, when you can either remain rooted in your spot and continue to sink down further until you lose your balance and fall or you can adjust your feet and allow the sand to fill in the spaces under your toes so that you balance and climb and stay above it all — so that you’re not stuck, in that space… you can choose balance. I always choose to move my feet. I risk the shakiness of being balanced on one foot long enough to allow the ground to recover and the sand to drain between my toes — there, I am balanced. In the sand that is constantly being shifted and churned and taken away and replaced — balance is achieved effortlessly.
Balance can be a chain reaction. It can be achieved by reading a post by a friend and then reading another post by a another friend or it can be achieved by the people you choose to allow in your life or it can be achieved by shifting your stance just enough to allow the sand to fall between your toes. Perhaps it’s all of these, and more I suspect. Perhaps it’s a chain reaction — like many things in life.
Be aware of wonder. Live a balanced life – learn some and think some and draw and paint and sing and dance and play and work every day some.
Robert Fulgham
First Pages 
That entire first paragraph describes my thought patterns to a tick. The “barefoot” subject has opened me up, from the beginning with Judy, to Terre, and now to you. Thank you all for such uplifting and thought provoking reading! 🙂
Thank you Maulpartin for reading and commenting. I’m glad to be associated with anything Judy and Terre have got you thinking about!
Um… yeah… me,too. I like that you call it scattered and J calls it distracted. I used to call it ditzy, but I like your descriptions better. Thanks, B. *much love**big hugs*
Ha! I’m not sure ditzy scattered and distracted are the same thing? hmmm?
Either way, glad you’re here and thanks for reading.
ps — maybe we should call it curious or restless or always wanting to acquire knowledge or …
Becky, I definitely know what you are talking about on a Google search. However, I had the opposite thing happen tonight. While waiting for the page to load, I forgot what I was going to search for… 🙂
But, that is not the point you were trying to make. I too have had similar experiences. I have benefited greatly from some of the blog posts I have read, mostly by you and by Judy. But, in some ways though, they have knocked me off balance and made me think. But that is mainly because you and I are at such different points in our lives. It is really hard to explain. And I have had a difficult time even commenting on some of your posts.
I really wish I could go back about 20 years with the experience that I have now. I see the mistakes that I made back when I was your age. But, I am happy for you and the attitude that you have now. Sometimes things in life get messy. Just keep looking forward and keep writing.
Wow! Thank you Mary for saying you’ve benefited from something I wrote — that’s really a great compliment.
Thanks Mary — and I promise, 20 years ago, you were not my age now!
I’ll keep writing if you keep reading — deal?
Hmm… you made me do math. Correction: 13 years ago.
And yes, I will keep reading.
I LOVE that feeling, standing on the shoreline as the water rushes in, past you, and then back out. It’s dizzying, and your feet do sink and you play with it for a while but if you want to stay standing, eventually you have to take a step.
That is cool, b. Really physically… and metaphorically.
It IS dizzying. I often have to just visually focus on something because I literally get dizzy.
And, I like not being afraid to take that step — physically and metaphorically.
Yes. Exactly.
First the “Google”. I usually have five browsers open with at least five tabs in each. When I am done with one browser and its five tabs, I click on another browser and wonder what I was reading/looking at. So I completely understand I get off the path on the internet way too often.
Second: I saw a lot of things in Judy’s post. To me it was more about opening yourself up and being “naked” and opening up in the blog sense. BUT it also clicked in the actual bare foot sense. I often struggle with what to post so when that clicked I jumped on it.
Third: Your being fascinated with Nia made me giggle because it fascinates me too because so much of it can be related to life . . . . not just exercise. For now I am trying to share with my audience the exercise part because once you start that it is easy to see how it relates to many aspects of life.
As you have wrote about balancing on changing sand while you actual stand on the beach to me you implied that we need to find balance in life while it changes. And you said it, we find balance different ways.
Fourth: Thank you so much for the compliment (I am blushing). Thank you for the mention here. I love how reading helps writing. We both read J’s blog and were inspired. It WAS a chain reaction!
(Thanks, J! Thanks, B!)
Lots of things in life can be chain reactions — I hope to focus on the good chain reactions and avoid the negative ones. It is about finding balance in the ever changing existence of us — we can’t not change, but we can direct our change to a more positive outcome… I hope so anyway.
Thanks for letting me give you a shout out!
Hi Becky
That feeling you get from the beach I get from the mountains. At least I think it’s similar. I get charged. Now we’re deep in the mountains, but the other half of the year I think I might be a neighbor of yours in TN. Anyway, I enjoy your writing and marvel at it’s quality. thanks
Thank you for reading! Are you seriously in TN sometimes? From Bhutan? Wow — I checked out your blog!
Thank you for the great compliment — hope you come back.
oops. …its quality
I pay no attention to typos… it’s my superpower.
We’ll be back in September. We live in Bellevue.
Love this, I now want to be at the beach! Unfortunately it’s cold and (shocker) raining in Washington. Ah well, thankfully I have your post. 🙂 Thanks B!
Thanks c.
I love the beach — any beach really. It makes me feel really connected and balanced. 😉
Vulnerability. Thank you for finding the word I could not. I have been thinking about this a lot lately, but hadn’t found the word. I’ve put myself in a position of vulnerability lately, on Twitter, blogging, and oddly I like it. It’s reminded me of falling in love: you have to make yourself available to feeling hurt, and then the little joys are twice as sweet. A great post Becky!
It is vulnerability — that’s the first thought that came to me when I was reading j’s post. But, I guess, being vulnerable forces you to make a choice between balance and sinking. And, if we accept that we are vulnerable, I think we can create some wonderful experiences from that — not to mention, the people that come into your life when you are vulnerable can often help you achieve balance.
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