Sarah says: Remember this post where I declared St. Julian Riesling as my favorite wine? Yup, it hasn't changed. This wine and I, we just click. It's perfectly delicious. It doesn't matter how many other wines I try, this one stays constant. It's like that old friend, that you have sort of lost touch with, but whenever you get together, it's like you just pick up where you left off. It's the friend that when they ask how are you, and you smile and say fine, they just look at you like you are crazy because they can tell you actually aren't. That's me and this wine, it just gets me.
How are you? It's such a simple question, and such a complicated one. There's different versions of how this question can play out. The polite version - the I'm only asking to be nice, so I only expect a nice response; goes like this "How are you? I'm good, how are you? Good, thanks." Quick, simple, expresses a friendly front, but doesn't really answer the question. The unexpected response version - when you ask to be polite, but get an earful in return, goes like this "How are you? Oh, not good, see my cousins, boyfriends, kid is sick with the flu and.........." this goes on for awhile, but you don't really listen, because you weren't really interested, you were only asking to be nice. The how did I get into this version - you didn't even start the conversation, you only responded to be nice, which is what you thought the other person was being, but now you are stuck, goes like this "How are you? I'm good, how are you? Well, my cousins, boyfriends, kid is sick with the flu and...... " Then there's the best friend version, the person that really cares and gets you, goes like this "How are you? I'm good, how are you? That's crap, I don't know who you think you are talking to, but it's me, and I can tell you aren't good, so start spilling." And you do, because it's time to be honest.
I'm infamous for the quick, short, not really telling response. I'm an accountant, words aren't my strong suit, which seems odd since I write a blog. If it was socially acceptable to answer that question by giving 1 - 10 rating, I would, but I fear people wouldn't adapt to that. Can you imagine it, "How are you? 4" Love it. Seems odd, but it's pretty clear how I'm feeling.
So, today, I'm going to attempt to explain how I am in words. First, let me take you back, and explain how I assess how I am. A long, long, time ago, I was told about the wonderful Frank Moran (yes, of Plante Moran). Frank had a theory that life was like a tightrope, and required a delicate balance between work, family, hobbies, church, and everything else that fought for your time and attention. To this day, P&M promotes finding your balance, and not allowing work to become your everything. I probably took this more literally than most, and I actually picture myself walking up on a tightrope, carrying all my stuff, trying to find the balance. Before I take on any new project, I generally picture myself on my tightrope and try to figure out what I'll have to shift around to maintain the balance. Sometimes, it's just a matter of tossing something from one arm to the next, sometimes I can put something in a pocket or backpack, or sometimes I realize I just can't make it work. A similar picture crosses my mind when something ends, now there is a void that can cause my balance to shift. Sometimes when balancing becomes too hard, it's easy to think that it might be easier to just fall. It's not the end of the world to fall off the tightrope, there's a net to catch you, and you get to take a little rest and lay there awhile. But the reality is, things can get broken during the fall, your items will get scattered all over the place, you'll have to gather them up again, climb back to the top, and ultimately take that first terrifying step back onto the tightrope. It's much easier to just stay up there.
So, how am I? Well, 9 months ago, I was up on the tightrope, in my running shoes, work in my right arm (because it's my strongest), kids in my left, church was in a fanny pack (front and center), Jon sits on my shoulders (kind of watching over us all), my family was in a backpack (not at the front of my life, but close enough where I feel their weight and can't forget about them), I have a few books stuffed in my pockets on one side, my laptop in the other, and I'm kicking around a hacky-sack that represents my house (I could drop that at any minute). And I was slowing making progress forward on my tightrope. And then... the words that every parent fears came out of Liam's kindergarten teacher's mouth. "Liam's not doing very well in school, he needs some more in-depth developmental testing." At that moment, all forward movement stopped. I was ok with that stop in movement at that time, I was letting it sink it, a normal reaction. But then... I started loosing the balance. Suddenly, information was being thrown at me at such a rapid speed that I could barely figure out if it was good information or junk before it flew by. All well intended, but between the teachers, the doctors, the internet, my family members, and every other good hearted person that had opinion, I couldn't balance it. I try to maintain a picture of gracefulness up there on my tightrope, that has completely vanished. I no longer cared how I looked, I just didn't want to experience the pain of the fall. I was wobbling all over the place, throwing items from one arm to the next just for a moment to free up that hand to grab onto something, only to realize it wasn't what I thought it was, and dropping it. Or thinking I didn't need it and watching it go by, only to catch a glimpse of it at the last second, and deciding it was worth a shot, but it was too late at that point. I wasn't just stopped and wobbling on my tightrope, my tightrope got caught on a nail and was beginning to fray. It was only a matter of time before the whole thing went down. And then, Daddy grabbed the duct tape, and patched us up. There was that moment of shock, where did that magical duct tape come from? And when I looked up, my shoulders didn't ache anymore, because I wasn't carrying a person on them, instead he was shuffling his away along that tightrope next to me. At times I find it annoying, having a second person making my tightrope bounce around, but overall it helps balance it out. I especially enjoy that when I drop something, there's still time for someone else to catch it. Very recently, I was able to stop wobbling over the place and stand still again. I'm hoping to start making forward movements again in the near future. I guess you could say I'm not currently moving on the tightrope, I'm standing still, but at least I'm standing tall.
I know that was a long, crazy way of saying how I am. And maybe that's why I don't generally answer it when people ask. For now, I'll continue to say "I'm good", but now at least you know there's a little more to it.
How are you?
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