When cross country skiing, I have been known to fall over standing still. It happens when I am waiting for someone, or stopping to chat with a neighbour we ran into near the bush. Why it happens is more of a mystery. Maybe I try to move my feet so they don't get cold. Maybe I shift my weight to turn to look at the person who is talking, and with feet tied into boots and skies, I throw off my balance and land in the snow.

When I started doing tai chi, which requires careful movement of weight from one foot to the other, I noticed that when standing straight, I was often off centre. Even with feet parallel, I'd lean to the right or left. Placing my weight evenly, in balance, takes concentration.

Leaning forward from the waist is another strange posture I take. I've noticed that when working in the kitchen I bend toward the work. Even in the middle of a room, I lean. I'm not that tall, so I can do things standing straight, and I am working at keeping my body over my feet.

A buggy that drove at a good clip up the highway toward me had two wheels that wobbled. The top of the wheels swayed in and out with each rotation. The slightest wear in the axel, bend in the spokes, or imbalance in the wheel is visible with the wide diameter.

To run straight the hub needs to be true and the axel straight. The rim has to be smooth and round. And the spokes that connect hub and rim need to be consistent.

With air-filled tires we take this for granted: the air moves in the tire to make the circle and fill the space evenly. Until the tire loses air. Or until the bearing that lets the wheel turn smoothly starts to go. When imbalance creates a wobble in a car or truck tire, it can be terrifying.

I like to buy an agenda that lays the whole month out at a glance. Most have a week, with Saturday and Sunday crammed into smaller spaces than the week days. But even if I can find one with a full column for each of the seven days, the perspective chops my life into small pieces. Someone wants to get together, and I look at a week and say sure I have Thursday free. Then, I end up pressed to fit in other tasks because the next week already had too many spaces filled. And unless I can see the whole month, I may end up doing lots of meetings so things run smooth, but I don't get visiting.

When I can look at a whole month, I can see when tasks are not balancing out. The page tells me that I am spending a whole lot of time away at wider church work or that I am never at home. Some of that can't be avoided, but when I see it, it helps me to balance the other choices I make so that life doesn't wobble quite so much.

Asked a hard question, we consider our words carefully. Someone is looking for a quick fix and a simple answer to a complex social problem or a choice they have to make. How often we have to say that the answer is not "yes" or "no," but "yes and no." Life is complex, and holding too tight to one thing--joy or anger, work or play--will throw us off balance.

Life is both good and hard. Fixing a real life social problem requires a slow and measured response, something that keeps the current mess and the long term goal in mind. Balance where we are and where we want to get, and the path will be one we can travel.

Picture someone who practices yoga holding a pose on one foot with arms and leg carefully placed. When their balance is right, they are still. They can hold that place. With practice they learn to notice where their whole body is. With practice, we can do the same with life and find balance.

Cathy Hird is a farmer, minister, and writer living near Walters Falls.