Balance

Polymer clay cracks as I meditatively blend colors with my hands. I use a small blade and sewing pin to place each color onto glass where I build images. As I work, I scroll through my mental to-do list, recall flickering memories, and worry about my child’s future. I watch her try to balance during gymnastics class and can’t help but think of my own attempts at balancing this too-full life. How do we “do it all?” My thighs squish and my living room overflows like the clay pushing outside its borders. No matter how carefully I position bits of clay or plan my child’s lunches, things spill out. The clay and my child rebel. Allowing that rebellion feels uneasy against the pressure to hold it all together. I teeter, trying to find balance.