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Sometimes life feels like a circus act - and we are actors who try desperately to prevent everything from crackling on the ground. Turning too many plates is a sentence, capturing fatigue, chaos, and gentle panic. Plates are her job - deadlines, expectations, bosses will put your head down. Another plate is your family - I like to return the phone and cook meals. Then there is her personal life - it continues to shrink, starve, calm or joy about sleep, and still seeks attention.
The thing about turning too many plates is that no one sees how difficult they are. From the outside, it may seem like a bounty - wow, she manages everything! He has everything together! But behind the smile, calculate the risk of someone losing everything. Not only is it a distraction, it's a misstep and it breaks a bit. And when the plate falls, he not only breaks, but he breaks and becomes noisy and messy, cleaning it while keeping others in the air. There is this strange pride of being busy - the more valuable we turn the more plates. We trust the move to prove ourselves. But they don't tell you it's okay to let go of thing that no longer useful for you, to get the air, to low it, and to get it. Perhaps it's worth it to go around. Maybe some people were given to them by others with what they expec and pressure. Perhaps you don't even like half the plate you interact with.
However, the fear of slowing down is real. What happens if things falls apart as soon as it paused? What if people think they are kinda lazy, kinda weak, and not reliable? But the truth is that if you are shooting too many plates, it's is not sustainable. Something have to give. And all that you can do is make decision on which plates are really necessary. The rest will fall off. If you must to, let them smash it and break . Because your peace is obviously not in the number of things you move with, but in the peace that happens when your energy make decision on what is truly right.