The Neverending Story (of finding balance)


Recently, I came back to writing (or rather, this type of writing), and the topic that made me sit down and write was the never-ending pursuit of balance. Coincidentally, and probably unsurprisingly, it is hitting very close to the last article I posted on The Corporate Potato blog as well. At first, it made me hesitate. But then I realized that I doubt this is the last time this topic comes up - either for me, or on this blog - anyway. And I thought, you know what? We may as well continue this journey together.

As a matter of fact, let’s dive right in.

 

We spend a significant portion of our lives searching for balance.

Work-life balance, a balanced diet, the absolute balance in a perfected yoga pose.

We strive for perfection and beat ourselves up every time we fail to achieve it, even though we rationally know that perfection does not exist.

What if I told you that balance doesn’t exist either? Because it doesn’t – at least not in the shape we expect to find it in. The thing is, balance is not a magical spot we find and then settle into. It is not about holding still; it is about following your flow.

Remember the tightrope walkers? Imagine they would try to keep their balance by staying rigidly still. They don’t, they adjust their posture ever so slightly to compensate for every shift. Their moves are deliberate. Their minds are present when their life literally hangs up in the air. It would be the most understandable thing if their thoughts started to run amok with the anxiety such a situation can induce. But that’s the thing - their minds are present exactly because of the situation they are in. They stay upright because they keep moving, not because they find their balance and then hold onto it tight. It makes so much sense when you think about it, right? And yet, when we want more balance in =our day-to-day lives, we act like it is the most counterintuitive thing to do. It is not.

Especially at work, we are taught and trained to think ahead. To analyze, assess, plan, strategize, evaluate. And yet… and yet. It seems to me – both from observation and from experience – that we come up with the best solutions to the problems we face when we pause and focus on what is right in front of us.

If I’m losing my balance because I’m veering too far off to the left, I should probably try to even it out by leaning right. Thinking about whether it would be useful to be slightly more to the left a week from now won’t help. The same way, if I’m tired today, then I probably need to make time for some rest now instead of focusing on (and worrying about) everything I will need to push forward tomorrow. Rest is anyway not something that is to be earned first, but that’s a conversation for another day.

Balance is not a perfect, enlightened pose to strike and hold. Balance is a dance. It is ebbing and flowing. It is not a state to be reached and kept; it is to be found again and again and again, as often as you can. Like a pendulum; the longer you swing it, the more often you it finds the centre spot. You can imagine it like practicing your balance when standing on one leg. At first, it might feel hard and you’ll wiggle around a lot, but with some practice, you improve. On the outside, it might even look like you are still. On the inside, you will know that it is the tiny adjustments and twitches of your muscles keeping you upright, not their absence. Regardless of what others see.

So, if you are looking to find or improve your balance, try letting go of the grip you are attempting to have on it. Unclench your fist, lean back a little, and look at what’s right in front of you. Fiddle with it, tweak your approach, adjust. Keep adjusting forever, if you need to.

(Spoiler alert: you will need to. As long as you are alive. That is how life works, I’m afraid – it just keeps on moving.)

It’s within your reach, I promise. Regardless of how far does the pendulum swing right now, it will find the center again. And again.

And again and again and again.

Balance is not something you find, it’s something you create.
— Jana Kingsford