aloque

Scales always tipped over

There is one thing in life that is ever elusive to me. I happen to think that, in it, lies the key to my satisfaction, happiness and true ability to stay in and enjoy a moment with consistency. There are many good moments in an hour, a day, a week to overshadow the bad, but the bad are long lived, and always tend to resurface. The solution is as simple to say as it is hard to find. Balance. That is the ingredient to a happy life. And striking the right balance is hard enough to justify the end result.

I have always gravitated towards the extremes of all things in my life. Interest in something usually leads to all out passion that burns hard and fast without stability, leaving no space for anything else until it fizzles out, a damp squib that promised to be so much more. Similarly, disinterest in one thing will lead to a malaise spreading to other spheres of my life, making me withdrawn and manic.

I have never learnt to compartmentalise my feelings. Never learnt to accept happiness and grief with equal nonchalance, victory and defeat with similar detachment. Never found the right balance between work and relaxation. I will either work myself to the bone or sit my ass at home languishing, forgetting my responsibilities. I have never found the equilibrium between my self imposed loneliness and my desire to have a social life. I have never found a meeting ground for my bloated ego and my insecurities, ever growing, in parallel directions. Its one or the other in extremes, like my little brain is incapable of handling both at once, in moderation.

I know the things that work for me, that make me happy. The problem lies in that that I cannot find a balance between them. I always have one or more things in disproportion when they are all equally important, equally unhappy to be ignored. I always hope for that perfect day when everything lines up precisely.