I think of balance, and I think of scales perfectly leveled. A ballerina on pointe. A point of perfect equilibrium. A calm demeanor that is neither ecstatic nor miserable. A perfect 50/50 split. But is that ever actually possible? Is balance something still, something to be achieved and held? Or is it more like a dance—constant movement, shifting weight, recalibrating with every step?

To practice compassion is to learn to dance with both the light and the dark. It is stepping into the shadow and holding hands with the monsters. It is feeling your heart break and choosing to let the cracks widen and expand rather than sealing them shut. It is allowing your grief to be a portal, an opening rather than an ending. It is looking at all parts of yourself and others and gently asking, Where does it hurt?

This is the second piece in my year-long Wall Hanging Oracle Deck project…A place of refuge. A feeling of safety. A space to exhale, to release vigilance, to soften the shoulders and let go. A moment of relief.