The entire world was thrown out of balance on the blue morning of September 11, 2001. Those two towers falling to ashes forever changed our landscape as we knew it. More so than the Empire State Building, they had become the emblem of the New York Skyline; of the city’s strength, its’ uniqueness, and a symbol of the city’s cultural diversity. The Twin Towers are now relegated to memory and photographs, we are left to find an equilibrium between the everlasting past tragedy and a new day. Prior to that fateful fall day, The World Trade Center was the calling card to a city that never sleeps, it represented all things possible. Every time I approached the big apple, in the 26 years those giants ruled the sky, my mind would take me back to August 8, 1974.
On that mid-summer dawn, on a day not unlike September 11, a tiny Frenchman named Philippe Petit rigged a 450 pound cable between the two towers. Using a 55 pound balancing pole he made eight passes, 400 meters above the ground. For a 14 year old boy, terrified of heights, it made an indelible impression with regard to imagination, dreams, and the urgency of finding balance. I have never lost my fear of high, open space, but from that day forward, I have carried a pole in between my ears on a search for the that elusive balance in life.
How many times have you heard, “Find balance, that is the key to a happy and fulfilled life.” Or, “Do things in moderation” or, ” Too much of anything is not healthy.” In my annoying “tongue in cheek” way I have bought into this idea of balance. Ever since my two daughters, Laura and Mary Kate, were little they were both into gymnastics. For both of them, their worst event was the balance beam. I would kid them that I hoped they found better balance in their lives than they had as gymnasts. I guess I thought it was an opening for my pontifications on finding a middle ground. They always told me to shut up as I railed on about which ever application of balance applied: schoolwork and play, exercise and relaxation, sleep and over sleep, focus and banality, having a drink and being over served, love and gullibility, being nice but not too nice. At one point or another over the years of their adolescence I have emphasized balance and tried to set an example.
Most recently I have been concerned about my daughters balance between school and their social agenda. If Donna and I have erred as parents, it has been on the lenient side. If judged from the outside there have been far too few rules, excessive partying, and at times a lack of respect for their providers. As a couple we have calculatingly, or sometimes lazily given our girls an extremely loose rope. We have explained to them often that there is a time and place for everything. We both have urged them to take their education seriously, treat people with respect (we don’t count as people), not drink and drive, and not get pregnant . Beyond those guidelines we have left Laura and Mary Kate on their own to find stability.
Laura recently completed her first semester at Florida State and Mary Kate is a senior in high school contemplating where she wants to attend college. Donna and I have privately questioned our own parenting methods when it comes to
imposing structure and discipline. While on the phone with Laura the first months after she left the nest all we heard was ” I am going to class and studying hard.” Sounded good, but from various sources of social media our impression was that she was down south having one huge beach party. On our one and only visit to the campus during the fall semester, it seemed as if FSU was party central and Laura’s apartment was the eye of the storm. Back on the home front, MK has been treating her last year of secondary school with apathy. Instead of looking to finish strong, she has been cavaliering about her academic performance and her attendanc
e. Once big sis arrived back in town, the two of them began creating more social activity than Khloe and Kim. Without any concrete results to measure, Donna and I were concerned our girls had lost their grip on fixedness and harmony.
Last week three things happened that helped swing my own personal pendulum of anxiety back to the middle. After not seeing Laura for a couple of days, upon her return from the Sunshine State I went online to check her first semester grades before I blew my stack about her social habits. Upon review it was obvious Laura had backed up her talk with results. After double and triple checking I was convinced the grades matched Laura Siegel: A+, A+, A , and B were the shocking letters next to her name for a 3.7 GPA. I immediately texted her my congratulations and adulations. Aware that I was very unconvincing, I told her I never doubted her. A few days later I arrived home and opened the mail and saw Mary Kate had officially got accepted to her second school that offered in writing a partial scholastic and field hockey scholarship. 
I knocked on MK’s bedroom door to tell her how proud I was of her. But of course whether she was there or not I got no reply. Finally, last Friday I headed to the dry cleaner to complete my weekly chore. I opened the door and thought I saw a man I recognized. It was Philippe Petitte in the flesh. “My god are you?, “Oui, oui”, said the little French showman. I quickly learned that he lived in nearby Woodstock and was just finishing up making a movie about his walk between the towers. The former juggler and jester who walked in the sky chatted with me for nearly 10 minutes. I told him 
how much I admired his high wire act and the impact it had on me. I asked him what gave him the courage to walk on a tiny cable 400 meters in the air. “Bon equilbre.” he said with a knowing grin. I walked out into the December cold a little confused by his French. After I had thrown my dry cleaning into the car I checked my phone and at last Laura had responded to my congratulatory text from 48 hours prior. “Thanks Dadio for teaching me balance.”
