Balance is a Myth
I’ve struggled to find balance my entire life. In my quest to steady the scale, I inevitably neglect one area while becoming obsessive about another.
Much like the, “perfect,” body, the, “right amount,” of success, or, “just enough,” money, the minute I experience what I perceive to be balance, my ideal changes, and I’m left chasing a new one.
I haven’t figured out how to have the relationships, hobbies, spiritual life, work life, and love life I desire, AND get 8 hours of sleep, AND do my hair everyday, AND be of service to people, AND eat right, AND, AND, AND.
Each of those things (and more) are, to some degree, important to me, but I can’t have it all. And that’s okay. Some days I wear a ponytail and go without makeup — my loved ones aren’t my loved ones because they care about how much time I put into my hair. Some nights I stay up too late. Some weeks I’m exhausted. And every now and then I blow everything off, lay around in my jammies, and watch Netflix.
There’s no daily routine for happiness
There’s no such thing as balance. At least not in the sense that a specific routine is the answer to all of my fears and doubts, or that waking up and going to sleep at a specific time is going to make me feel whole.
To seek insinuates that something is missing. What we call seeking balance, then, is often nothing more than looking for something outside of ourselves to fix the way we feel inside.
Balance, for me, doesn’t mean finding the long sought after, secret elixir that allows one to have it all. Balance means striving for more, and working to be better, without losing the peace that comes with knowing and believing that what I have is just right. Balance is the ability to be present today so that I can be present again tomorrow instead of waking up in ten years only to realize that my need to have it all caused me to miss the most important parts.
The idea that we can find balance implies that we (and our lives) are stagnant
Merriam Webster defines stagnant as: (1) not flowing in a current or stream (2) not advancing or developing.
The idea that I can work to find a way to balance my work, life, love, friendships, spirituality, hobbies, etc, implies that I am exactly the same person today as I will be in a month or a year. It also implies that the world around me and the people in my life are unchanging. That’s not realistic. As I grow and develop, so do my priorities, responsibilities, desires, and relationships. Perhaps instead of looking for the perfect daily routine or schedule, I should take a moment to honestly evaluate which activities and habits both fill my cup, and make me the most useful to others today — not forever, but for now — and spend my time doing that.
Let’s give ourselves a break, huh?
Usually when I feel like my life is unbalanced, it’s, in some part, because I’m trying to live up to a self-imposed ideal, or because I’m comparing myself to snippets of other people. It’s like looking at a photo of a supermodel, and picking apart all of the ways I don’t compare, without acknowledging that: a) I am not airbrushed, and b) I do not get paid to look my best. After a few minutes of this kind of thinking, I not only feel less attractive, but I feel less intelligent, less interesting, and worth less in general.
For me, the need for balance isn’t about balance at all. It’s about the fear of missing out. It’s about not achieving enough, not being there for my friends enough, not having enough house, or enough car, or enough career, or the right clothes. Some days it’s about fearing that I have too much of those things, and not enough God, or culture, or intellect. It’s about the fear of not being good enough.
The only thing we can’t get back is time. The only thing we really have is this moment. Knowing those things to be trues, I think I’ll try a different approach. Instead of endlessly seeking the myth of balance: I’m going to try being present for as many moments as I can, and see where that leads.
