It seems to me tonight
that I can’t get it right.
I have tried so hard.
It also seems
that I can’t mess up.
I return to a
seat
wedged between my heart
and solar plexus
on which balances
a space between
striving and not.
This seat does not totter
or teeter
but provides a solid spot
from which motion or not
is clear.
Every effort and every allowance
can be seen in joy.
May the Protestant work ethic
in all its good intentions
burn brilliantly into its own footprint.
Work Happens.
Stillness Happens.
And Shit Happens
from another seat
altogether.
Life as Improv 
From the seat of balance… allowing it all… enjoying it all, holding onto a deep knowing celebration just because IAM… 😘 love to you Marga Barbara x
Much love to you Barbara. Just stumbled back here and saw your energetic send. Returning in the timeless field. xx marga