Too Much

Is there such a thing as too much?

Too many mistakes.
Too many people.
Too many calories.
Too many cars.
Too many times.
Too much force.
Too terrible to think about.

What about too little?

Too few friends.
Too few opportunities.
Too few dollars.
Too few volunteers.
Too little empathy.
Too little to understand.
Too little trust.

Having just enough:

In the middle is perfection...
Or is it mediocrity?
Just enough means life at its best, but what if you miss the mark?
How do you know you've reached the pinnacle of the successful stratagem?
What does the mean, mean?
Is it possible to balance the see-saw indefinitely?
Or will you be stuck motionless at the "just right," place...

Too much, too little and too late:

Life goes up and down.
There is no perfect center, except the center of your being, the space inside your soul.
Back and forth and good and bad, want and need and all one has... everything.
Everything moves in cycles, and if you stay stuck in the middle, you die.
Time won't stand still.
Living means movement, which means flux.
Even the breath in your lungs expands and contracts; perfection isn't met.

Or found.
Or kept.
Or traded.

The stillness of motion is in the moment itself.

Keep moving, keep fighting, keep testing the rise and fall.