A day of balance

Next – a life of balance?

Yesterday, when I think back on it, was a perfect day. That’s because it was balanced.


Yin and Yang by Sharon Cummings


I woke up with things on my mind, things that I knew needed to be done. It was a temptation to ignore everything else and just launch in to those tasks.

I didn’t.

Walked the dogs in Buxted Park – it was drizzling, but beautiful! How lucky we are to live in this village.


Cleaned the kitchen, mopped the floor, washed all the dogs’ bedding.

Posted articles and flyers on Facebook for Landmark ( a little on my conscience.)

Had lunch.

Did a piece of work that I was sent at 6 p.m. on Friday. No given deadline but it was haunting my brain.  (Thanks, Dan!) It was one of those tasks that I looked at, briefly, when it came in and thought ‘I can’t DO this. I’m completely devoid of inspiration,’ but then, when I took the time…

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(I await feedback!)

Then I spent an hour in the garden with dogs and chickens, pottering about doing little jobs.

Next, I put the dinner on, creating a recipe for mutton chops out of my head. By which I don’t mean that it included brains.

While it was cooking – for hours, it being mutton – I worked busily on the one-woman theatre piece I’m writing for a friend. It flowed. I love it when that happens.

(I await feedback!)

After dinner, I carried on writing until 9, sent the MS off,  then did the ironing while watching The Crimson Field – a drama about nurses in the First World War. I was rather glad of the ironing.

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“Lots of well-scrubbed young ladies with plummy voices, alongside some more matronly, fiercer types, dealing with bloody matters of life and death. This they do…with gusto and good cheer, qualities which accentuate the huge clumsy gash of naked sentimentality which is scored across every moment of every scene,” reviewed Serena Davies, in the Telegraph. Yes. What more have we come to expect on a Sunday night?

I think it’s all my years working with the Commonwealth War Graves Commission – I can’t bear sentimentalisation of either of the world wars. Well, ANY war.

And so to bed. Fulfilled and happy.

A perfect balance of physical, cerebral, domestic and creative activity, indoors and out in the fresh air. Loads achieved, apparently effortlessly.

Here’s a quote from James Patterson’s book, Roses are Red.

“Here’s a nice image for a life in balance,” she said. “You’re juggling these four balls that you’ve named work, family, friends, spirit. Now, work is a rubber ball. If you drop it, it bounces back. The other balls they’re made of glass.”

“I’ve dropped a few of those glass balls in my day. Sometimes they chip, sometimes they shatter to pieces.”


Yesterday, I didn’t drop any balls!

A day of perfect balance


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