Would I be happy with a life less hectic? No.
Would I be satsified with a schedule less full? No. Am I lucky that everyone in my life understands my need for low-maintenance relationships and adventure? Yes.
Is it weird that I have a high need for emotional and physical attention in person but a high need for space and independence the rest of the time? Yes.
Everyone keeps telling me . . . juggle it . . . juggle it . . . juggle it . . . find your balance. Om. But how do you define balance when you're a woman with a balance disorder?
Balance is a physical, subjective condition. How do you know that you're in or out of balance? You feel it, right? You're not weaving . . . the world around you is steady . . . your sense of motion is relatively fixed upon one point . . . you can easily retain ocular focus. (Mental focus is a different world, and I'm gonna get to that monetarily. I mean, momentarily.) Your breath is regular. Your heart beat is predictable.
When you get tested for a balance disorder, they slap these silly goggles on you, cover up one eye at a time, and make your world turn upside down. Literally. Everything spins. You're sitting still, but they make you move like the worst roller coaster you can imagine. You might even puke. I almost did. (I KNOW - secksaaay!!!!)
So, it's fair to say that a sense of intangible (emotional, spiritual, theoretical, mystical) balance comes directly from a sense of tangible (physical, vestibular-ocular reflex) balance. Right? How else do you define your sense of intangible, internal balance? You could say everything feels right, or everything just clicks, or it all comes together, but that could be the result of regular bowel movements, booze, a big fat paycheck, or gettin' copious quantities of exercise and booty. (Fuck you. I know what you're thinking about what I am and am not getting.)
But making a woman who already has a balance disorder swoon? Come on . . . that's just not fair.
But it is kinda hot.