Slow balance.

This is what you will be, if you do not stop or hesitate.

Kneeling before the shrine, I am yet again apologizing for my long absence. And yet again, They take me back without reproach. Our talks are not without gentle admonishment – not for my failings, but for the shame and guilt I carry for being away. Life is unpredictable. Illness is unavoidable. I need to build solutions to the roadblocks in my way without blaming myself for their presence. And I need to be honest. A huge part of the problem is the overwhelming sense that by being forced to take a less intense role due to circumstance, I am somehow unworthy to work for the gods – somehow no longer Their servant. This is, in a word, preposterous.

It is very easy for me to turn all the blame internally when circumstances require taking a break, stepping back, or even just slowing down until changes can be made. The Ifs and the Shoulds can be overwhelming. And it is equally as easy for me to say “I won’t give up; I will work harder and be better than my anxiety,” but this is virtually impossible to accomplish. Because sometimes, working harder isn’t the solution. Having compassion for myself and taking the time to work patiently through a disadvantage often is. It seems that no amount of blunt force can break the wall of emotional fog, but slow and gentle kindness can wear it down until it eases.

Ma’at and the rules of the gods are not inflexible. They change, and they force us to examine ourselves and change with them, ever evaluating ourselves and balancing on Ma’at’s scales each day. Every day has its own equlibrium; each zep tepi comes with a tiny adjustment to the metrics. So we learn to live in flux, in harmony, and to know that standing still can be as effective a tactic as charging ahead.