No, not the fortuneteller. The size. The middle. The in-between. Recently, I was reflecting on the fact that the word “medium” says a lot about me. I wear a size medium in just about everything (I do have one item that is a small that I am secretly excited about but I think the brand runs large). I also don’t like my food too hot or cold, or the indoor/outdoor temperature to be likewise. Too loud? No thanks, my ears are sensitive, but I also can’t hear the TV if it’s too low.
Ever since I can remember, I’ve been a big fan of balance in my life. As a kid, I was always intensely interested in fairness and making sure wrongs were righted and all was equal. If you accuse me of something I didn’t do, I’ll move heaven and earth to prove my innocence. The scales of justice held great importance for me and the overall theme is a big reason why I went to law school.
I hear people say “it’s not fair!” a lot. Then you hear “life’s not fair.” Well, that’s true, but when you hear about a school shooting, or a plane crash, or a natural disaster, that whole “life’s not fair” concept stings. We all tend to try and look for meaning, or at least find some solace, when something terrible happens because to leave the deck stacked the wrong way feels incomplete, like a musical riff unresolved.
Being a glass-half-full person has its downsides. I’ve learned to keep my optimism hidden in certain situations because some people don’t want to hear that the sun will actually come out tomorrow. It’s okay to take a minute and wallow in the awfulness of something bad, or grieve a loss for as long as you need to. There’s no timeline on that, and even though you dust yourself off to move on after tragedy, the psychic fallout will stay with you for a long time. And even for us optimists, it can feel as though you’re struggling to stay afloat in the worst possible time, and instead of reaching for the stars, you have all you can do to reach for the top of the hole you’ve fallen into.
I just returned from my long-awaited trip to Egypt, where I fulfilled a childhood dream of seeing the pyramids, the Sphinx and riding a camel. OK, the camel was a bonus (and smelly) but being inside tombs and temples that are thousands of years old, covered in hieroglyphics and containing the tools of an ancient civilization was nothing short of spectacular.
One of the Egyptian goddess is Ma’at, who personified truth, order and justice. The Egyptians were big believers in balance, or the “natural order,” in all things. As a winged goddess, Ma’at’s symbol is a feather, and in the afterlife, Ma’at judged a person’s soul by having a feather placed on a scale to weigh their heart against the truth, and their fate was decided based on the weight of their sins.
As you can imagine, I related to this concept immediately. It makes sense that the pharaohs ruled this way to ensure order. The Egyptians believed that when harmony was maintained, society would prosper. It sounds so easy, right? To quote from one of the handouts on our tour, “Truth, or maat, represents honesty and integrity. It dictates that individuals must act with fairness and moral clarity. Truth was seen as a guiding principle for all actions, from personal behavior to governance, ensuring justice was upheld in both the spiritual and earthly realms.”
I had a lot of takeaways from this trip, and I’m still overstimulated and jetlagged, but I felt so personally validated by this philosophy. For me, it’s more than basic law and order or right and wrong. What speaks to me is that rather than being black or white, the idea of balance is more palatable and attainable. For example, I’ve always thought that friendship is not truly 50/50. One friend will always need the other one more. If you can strike a fair balance, so that you’re not always the one taking (or receiving) more than the other, that’s a successful relationship.
So, now my new catchphrase is “What would Ma’at do?” Given her moral code, I think she’d be a good friend.
Lisa Marchionda Fama is a retired attorney who has lived in Marblehead for seven years, loves this town, and hopes she never leaves. Visit her blog at TheSoberWidow.com.
