Here is yet another idea to add to my list of lessons
learned during this last spin around the sun- something else I absolutely
positively know to be true….
4. Balance is overrated.
For years, I have beaten myself up for not ever being able
to achieve that elusive balance between work and play, between self and others,
between spending and saving, between routine and spontaneity. I always seem to
be bouncing somewhere away from the mid-line. Don’t you worry- I am not a
completely insane roller coaster of outrageous and dangerous mood swings (At
least I don’t think so! Though please tell me if you think otherwise- just
maybe make sure I am not holding a knife at the time), but I do have a tendency
towards “all or nothing” and towards big emotions. I get full-on giggly about a
beautiful sunset, I would be tempted to instagram my joyous discovery of the
inside of a perfectly ripe avocado, and a busted stapler could quite possibly throw
me into a brief yet curse-laden rage. I also often work too much, sometimes
drink too much (though always unintentionally and with great surprise at the
end result), I pile too much onto my plate (both literally and figuratively), I
sleep too little, exercise too little, and I am just very rarely right on the
middle line with anything. I mean, look at the freaking adjectives I use.
There’s just no such thing as meh or fine or good in my vocabulary; adore
or despise, amazing or horrible- it’s
almost always extreme and either/or, never in the middle. For a while, I tossed
around this idea that imbalance is actually what brings about change and acts
as a driving force in life; so my “bounciness”, so to speak, is actually a step
towards making positive change in my life and in this great big world around me, an
idea I sometimes kinda sorta believe, but the problem is that it still focuses
on this idea of there being some kind of centre- either the before one or the after one- that I need to continually strive towards. I should
probably also say before I dive into this great big contemplation on the value
of becoming a more “balanced” me, that there is also the alternative of just
not thinking about all this stuff and just being,
but I think for folk like me- all big and bouncy and sensitive- we can’t help
but get a bit reflective about all this stuff, if only to make sure we are not
completely insane and are still safe within the “normal” zone.
Something struck me recently while teaching a class about
systems theory. I was explaining to students that we often talk about these two
different kinds of equilibrium. The first is static equilibrium, which is like a pile of books that remain in the
same state until, let’s say, some gust of wind topples them over, and then you
have to stack them all up again and create a new equilibrium, which will also pretty
much remain unchanged unless acted on again by an outside force. I think for a
long time, this was my idea of what balance meant, which I realize is
inaccurate. I didn’t recognize the dynamic nature of maintaining equilibrium,
perhaps because I didn’t feel like I knew what equilibrium or balance actually felt
like.
Then there’s steady-state
equilibrium, this idea that, within a system, there can be all sorts of
fluctuations in response to the world around it, and these are reactions to
varying levels of input or disturbances outside, and each reaction depends on
the sensitivity of the system itself, but in spite of all these fluctuations, the
system will always return to a functional equilibrium. Body temperature is an
example of this. We don’t freak out if we measure our temperature and it is not
exactly 37 degrees. We understand that there is a whole range of “normal” and
that our body is such a beautifully evolved system that it generally, in most
cases, sorts itself out. We shiver if we’re too cold to warm ourselves up; we
sweat to cool ourselves down. There might even be long-term changes in a system
that could alter the equilibrium completely yet still respect the integrity of
the system. A forest growing back after a fire is a great example of this. It’s
still the same forest, in spite of a massive disturbance, and even though what
grows there, and how it grows, might shift, the forest will still be the same
forest.
Even still, while I like this idea of a steady-state equilibrium a teensy weensy bit more than my previous
understanding of balance, and I like how easily these ideas can be applied to
the system of the human psyche, these words like “steady” and “balance” make me
a bit nervous. I’ve become almost allergic to them, partially because I know
the typical idea of breath-in,
breathe-out, mindful, reflective, come back to centre balance is simply
something I don’t feel I can attain, and also because I don’t really know if I
want to. I know that if I am to respect the integrity of who I am as a person,
I need to be okay with my high highs and my low lows and my swirly, twirly bits
in the middle. My excitement about the little things in life that others might overlook,
and my sensitive soul that makes me snot and sob all over myself when watching Marley and Me or listening to Hallelujah, these responses to everyday
events that might seem irrational or unnecessarily “unbalanced” or over the top,
are part of my integrity as a person; and the people around me who know me well
know that what might seem to outsiders like unpredictable or inexplicable behaviour
actually really fits the system of me.
The truth, though, is that I’ve kind of completely rejected
the idea of balance altogether as something to strive for. Maybe I
misunderstand this concept. I have this idea that balance has something to do
with a sensation of calm, of inner peace; and peace is just not me. In spite of
my best efforts, I am restless, hyper-active, busy pretty much all the time, even when I am completely
alone and obligation-free in the middle of the jungle, and if I use this idea
of balance and peace as my measuring stick of whether or not I’m doing okay,
then I will absolutely always fall short. And that, first of all, doesn’t feel
too particularly good, and secondly, is just not realistic, because if I look
at my life, I am actually doing pretty okay. Life is good, even if, by
definition, it sometimes seems a bit “unbalanced”.
If I think back to times when I was a complete mess, when
there was definitely something in the system of me that needed to be tweaked in
order to bring things back to fully functioning capacity, my barometer isn’t
really balance. It’s joy.
Some might say happiness is a superficial concept, and not a
sufficient means of measuring if things are as they should be in my life. I
think my evangelical upbringing might argue that happiness is kind of selfish,
and that righteousness might be a better measuring stick. Perhaps, others might
argue that happiness is temporary and relative and unreliable. But here’s my
argument: If there is one thing that I think defines me as an individual, it is
my capacity for joy, for seeing the light in the darkness, and recognizing the
good- this is the core of the integrity of my system, so to speak. So, when I
find myself in a space when I feel a sustained unhappiness, when I lose that
capacity, when I begin to feel resentful and negative, then I know that it is
time for a change. Sometimes, that change might have to do with reflecting on
something inside of me, shifting my approach to life, and sometimes that change
might mean altering my circumstances. Sometimes- actually, often- it’s simply about
self-acceptance and understanding.
A few years back, when I was at my messiest, my sister used
this beautiful analogy to describe my situation. She told me that I was a
strong flower capable of growing deep roots and reaching high but that I had
spent so long in conditions that didn’t allow me to grow. I was in bad soil in
a dark room without enough nurturing. She had said, “If we get you out of that
bad soil, bring you into the light, and give you a little love, you’ll be just
fine.” (I’m probably making her wise analogy a little prettier and more poetic
but I just can’t help myself.) So, it seems that only in these last few years,
out of the bad soil and into the light, I’ve been able to get a better sense of
who I actually am and how I function in good soil. And what I’ve discovered is
that, oddly enough, simply understanding when I seem to feel my highest highs
and my lowest lows, as well as what triggers the occasional spikes of
unsustainable work habits and sleeplessness, and then respecting the role of
all these elements in developing my capacity for empathy and creativity and
growth, has been very significant. Also, recognizing that there are limits in
the process of self-actualization is freaking huge! What’s that they say? A leopard
can’t change its spots? I have to accept that I am always going to be a bit
bouncy, and that my bounciness is okay, and that understanding it and accepting
it and sometimes even anticipating it can keep me in my own self-defined “normal” zone, and can prevent me from wasting so
much energy trying to be something I am not or, even worse, wasting energy getting
mad at myself for not being able to become something I am not. After all, trying
to change your spots into stripes is not only impossible, it also just makes you
feel so damn inadequate and miserable, not to mention tired.
So, back to my barometer. Balance has its value; otherwise
we wouldn’t talk about it so much. But the idea of balance that I have come to
understand simply doesn’t work for me. And I admit that happiness perhaps in
and of itself isn’t enough. So here’s what I am striving for: harmony- the
beautiful blending of these two concepts. I love the dictionary definitions for
harmony: “a pleasing arrangement of parts” and “the state of being in agreement.” Harmony is fluid, flexible,
dynamic, and it integrates this idea of the importance of things not only
aligning and balancing but doiing so pleasingly. It hints at joy. It’s about
shifting the proportions of the different aspects of my life in such a way that
they fit and function and please. This means that sometimes there will be bouts
of excessive work and not enough exercise, and sometimes there will be too much
socializing and not enough meditating, but that if it all fits together
reasonably congruously, and the whole system is functioning and maintaining its
integrity in spite of continual fluctuations in its complex parts, and the
result is a relatively pleasing arrangement, then- it turns out- I am doing
ay-okay.
