Finding Balance: The Myth and the Reality

originally published in Hebrew on the Parental Choreography column on Haaretz.co.il

by Ori Lenkinski

For the past several weeks, I have been musing over the concept of “the work life balance”. Both in English and Hebrew, we speak of this balance as something that must be found. It is as if the perfect blend of professional and personal is out there somewhere, hidden amongst the emails and heaps of laundry and one must only look hard enough and with a keen enough eye to locate it. And when it is found, what happens?

I imagine that mother, stumbling upon the balance, excising it from her life mess and framing it, like the rose in Beauty and the Beast.

In real life, I experience that quest for balance between my family and my work as an ongoing negotiation, one that shifts and changes every day.

In dance, the search for balance is a daily endeavor. The body is different each and every day and what worked yesterday will most likely not suit today’s challenges. High up on the ball of one’s foot, the other leg in arabesque, about to release the hand clutching the barre for balance, a dancer must check in with what the particulars of that day. Tight muscles, injuries, a heavy breakfast, a good or bad mood and blurry vision are all factors that can affect whether or not balance is achieved. Lean a touch too far forward and the hand sails back to the barre. Lose focus on the horizon and the standing heel crashes to the floor. Often, a distracted mind can be the biggest challenge in organizing the body. Some days, no matter what one tries, there is no equilibrium.

One of my favorite teachers urges students to smile or laugh each time they fall out of balance. He maintains that smiling, even if fake, embeds a practice of lightness into our lives. Instead of cursing or condemning ourselves for teetering off our center, a good chuckle reminds us that losing our balance is just as natural as achieving it, if not more. Those missed balances can be a rehearsal for the moment the bowl of soup crashes to the floor or the article is deleted before being saved.

In the parenting dance, balance includes several bodies and several minds. Each day, each one of the participants, child and adult, wakes up in a different mood, with different hunger levels and different needs. And each day, my work requires a different level of engagement.

There are countless factors piled onto that seesaw and most of the time they don’t balance out perfectly.

Sometimes, intensity in work is mirrored by intensity at home. These are moments when that quest for balance feels like a knight’s journey. Like Frodo Baggins traversing Mordor. Other times, everything eases up at once and life is suddenly peaceful, everyone loves their dinner, all emails are answered, shoes are donned without complaint. And like the tight-rope walker gracefully gliding high above her net, in these moments, I try to remember not to look down.

Like so many of life’s most beautiful things, balance is fleeting, ephemeral, momentary. Not finding it doesn’t mean you haven’t looked hard enough or long enough. Even if it can be found, it must be found over and again, constantly, each day anew.