The Truth About Dropping Sweaty Balls
Why letting go of what you're holding too tightly may be the exact thing that sets you free.
Let’s Go
Yep. You read that right. Sweaty balls. We’re going there.
And trust me—this story is about way more than just sweat. It’s about holding on too tightly, the art of release, and finding unexpected beauty in the mess of being human.
Let me back up.
The Bubble Moment
Lately, I’ve been deep in the work of self-healing—uncovering years (decades, really) of repressed emotions, old patterns, and hidden tension. It's been intense, beautiful, and messy. Kind of like gutting a closet you haven't opened in 20 years… and then realizing some of the boxes are full of emotional glitter bombs.
In the midst of this healing journey, I had an experience I’ll never forget.
Picture me: snuggled under the softest light blanket, music filling my ears, carrying me through an internal journey that felt like both a dream and a revelation. At one point, I was floating—literally feeling like I was gliding through the air in a giant bubble.
It was whimsical. Magical. A little disorienting. I was giggling, laughing, trying to “walk” around while feeling weightless. It reminded me of an old Arbonne White Party in Vegas with performers in giant transparent floating balls, dancing in pools, full of elegance and acrobatics.
I was… not that graceful. But the vibe? Same energy.
And Then…The Balls Dropped
Then, out of nowhere, this song comes on. No lyrics—just sounds. But the sounds? They were unmistakable.
Balls. Dropping.
Ping pong balls, bouncy balls, all sizes, all falling from the sky in my mind’s eye.
And I thought:
"We’re dropping balls."
Then I said it—out loud:
"We’re dropping SWEATY balls!"
I couldn’t stop laughing.
And to be clear—I sweat. A lot. My hands, my feet, my lower cheeks… all of it. If there's an Olympic sport for inconvenient sweating, I’d medal.
So yeah. We were dropping sweaty balls.
But Then… a Truth Emerged
In between the giggles, I started reflecting. As I sat there (sweaty), I realized something so obvious it nearly knocked me over:
I juggle a LOT of balls.
Business. Family. Healing. Cooking. Coaching. Farm life. Being strong. Being helpful. Being on. Always.
I’ve been holding onto ALL the balls like it's my job. (Which, funny enough, it kind of is.) But the weight of juggling all those responsibilities, all those identities, all those expectations—it's exhausting. It makes me sweaty. It stretches me thin. It dilutes my magic.
And letting go of even one? Ohhh the anxiety. The fear of dropping the ball. Of disappointing someone. Of failing.
But in that weird, floaty moment…
The balls started dropping.
One by one.
And the world didn’t end.
In fact—it felt… light.
The balls that dropped weren’t lost. They just weren’t mine to carry right now. Some may stay dropped forever. Some may roll back into my hands later. But releasing the pressure to hold them all at once? That was freedom.
The Coloring Page Revelation
Later that day, I was coloring—something to do as a way to calm my nervous system and make space for stillness. I grabbed a page full of grass, flowers, butterflies—just peaceful, nature stuff.
I finished it. Sat back. Looked at it.
And right there, at the very bottom…
A pile of BALLS. (I kid you not!)
They were small, tucked into the soil like seeds or stones or forgotten burdens. And the words that came out of my mouth were:
“If I don’t drop the balls, the beauty of what I am can’t shine.”
Because here’s the thing: when we're busy gripping everything, we leave no room for anything to grow.
The Real Message (And Why You’re Here)
If you’re reading this thinking, “Oh wow, this might be me…” — it probably is.
Maybe you’re juggling too much.
Maybe you’re sweating through a smile, trying to keep it all together.
Maybe you’re so afraid of dropping the ball that you're missing the fact that some of them are no longer yours to hold.
And maybe…
Just maybe…
What you're holding onto is suffocating the very beauty, peace, and power you’re meant to bring into the world.
So I’ll say this:
You’re allowed to put some balls down.
Even the sweaty ones.
Especially the sweaty ones.
Let the Balls Drop, Babe.
You might be surprised what grows in their place.
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