"Life is a balance between rest and movement."

{ Osho }

It's early afternoon, on the last day of August. I'm sitting in a light and serene room at the Korakia Pensione in Palm Springs. Behind me, my husband is napping in bed, cocooned in crisp white linens, gently snoring. Ahead of me, through the window, I can see two lovers mildly making out in the pool, and beyond that, the steep rise of the San Jacinto mountains. In an hour or so I'll be venturing out into the 100 degree sunshine, to find myself a cozy lounging chair by the lovers' pool, but until then: it's time to write.

Very early into this summer I made an uncharacteristic decision for myself: to do less. Up to that point, 2015 had been full of a whole lot of business and busyness: strict diet and asana practice, website-building, blogging, Instagraming, business card design, etc. and blah, blah, blah. And that's exactly how I was left feeling by June: very blah. I was tired, uninspired, and burning out. It's true, after all, what they say about too much of even a good thing...

I was out of balance, and needed to throw my weight in the very opposite direction. So I decided to put all my "goals," my to-do lists, my self-helping, my "musts" and "shoulds" away for the entire season. I decided not to push myself to write, to teach, to "figure it out," to "make it work" for this one season, my Summer of Play. I decided to take a vacation from discipline. I decided my work for the summer was to lighten up and have fun.  What I am learning in the practice of yoga and of life, is that playing well is just as important as working hard in the quest for true balance and joy.

Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?" {Mary Oliver}

What evidence do I want to show for having lived my life? Dedication to a meaningful discipline? Sincere devotion to the Source of Love? Perseverance in the face of difficulty and frustration? A clean body and a spirit-centered mind, pursued in quiet solitude? Yes, of course. 

But.

But what about relationships? What about uncontrollable belly-laughter shared with friends in a hotel room in Vegas? What about sinking my teeth into a juicy, cayenne peppered corn-on-the-cob at the county fair? What about sharing the back-seat of a convertible with two of my favorite people, wind whipping our faces as we cruise the sunny streets? What about exploration and discovery in the desert and the ocean with my husband? What about swimming with f*cking dolphins?! 

Answer: Well, I want it all.

The Balancing Act: What do I gain? What do I lose?

Let me use the dolphins as an example, since they've got me all fired up. 

Dolphins are are f*cking magical creatures. I love them, and I love when they come around to play in Newport Beach. Play is an important part of the social lives of dolphins and is actually believed to be crucial to their cognitive development. (I'm not a dolphin expert--I just read an article about them in National Geographic.) I feel a magnetic pull drawing me into the water when I see them dancing around the waves off the coast.  I get nervous and excited like a thirteen-year-old-girl contemplating wether or not to approach her crush. The closer I can get to them, the stronger my heart sings. Their playfulness is contagious. It's pure happiness.

So if I'm walking along the boardwalk, with just enough time to make it back to my bike, ride home, and head to the yoga studio for my regular late afternoon practice, but out in the water I see a beautiful little alien jump out of the water to say hello, what do I do?

Weighing My Options

Option 1: I stick to my discipline. I keep on walking up the boardwalk. I unlock my bike and ride home. I allow just enough time to make it to my regular afternoon yoga class, where I repeat five Surya Namaskar A's, five Surya Namaskar B's, and then a strong flow sequence, followed by a satisfying Savasana.

Option 2: I embrace my immediate instinct. I run and I dive. I swim out as far as I can toward these beautiful, open-hearted creatures, and I open my heart to them, to the ocean, to the present moment, to living on a whim.

This is where I ask myself "What do I gain; what do I lose?" This is a helpful question to ask when weighing options and seeking balance. Neither option is right or wrong. There is no mistake to be made. Instead it's a matter of choosing the path that will swing the pendulum in the direction I need it to be swung at that very moment. This is why balance is so tricky: there's no static answer, ever. Balance is a practice in constant awareness. It's about cultivating the ability to recognize from moment to moment which direction you're falling, and where you need to throw your weight in order to remain standing.

In this particular instance, and for the entirety of my summer, I needed to lose the strict discipline, and gain a little playfulness and joy. I had spent a long and productive winter and spring working hard. I needed to swing the pendulum drastically in the other direction before I could make my way back to center. I needed to play with dolphins.

My Summer of Play has been astoundingly fun. I've road-tripped, roller-coastered, rock-n-rolled, and romanced. As the season begins its gradual retreat, I feel rested and full, and I'm ready to get back to work. After all, I crave routine, patterns, productivity, manifestation. I feel powerful when I see my work, finished and well done. But I'm learning to recognize when it's better to let go, let loose, and follow my heart into the water. And right now, the Palm Springs sunshine is calling me back to the present moment. It's time for one more dive into the pool.