Balance Is Bologna
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[Disclaimer: This post is long. And makes little sense.]
First of all, I must state something for the record: Bologna is a weird word. I’m not sure why it is spelled the way it is, but it makes me feel uncomfortable. Nervous. I just popped up from my desk to look in the fridge to read the label on our package of bologna. Sure enough, that’s how you spell it.
While I was there, I checked the expiration date because, well, I am not a very on-the-ball mom these days. Our fridge is barren. Stocked with mostly expired condiments. You will be relieved to know that said bologna does not expire until February 19th. Phew.
I carried the package of bologna back to my desk. Now I stare at it. The mocking marigold plastic. Full of sliced meat that is 98% fat free. I flip the package. I squint. The first ingredient is mechanically separated turkey. I stop there. I can’t go on.
Feel free to judge.
I am.
But this isn’t about bologna.
This is about balance.
Balance. I’ve been thinking about this word, this thing, a lot these days. I’ve been craving it like cupcakes. In an effort to find balance between the Personal and the Professional, to feel it, I forced myself to take a two week break from blogging. In an effort to find balance, I have stopped blogging on weekends. I have declared Saturdays and Sundays sacred family time. I think these are good steps. Important steps.
But still. I don’t feel balanced. I feel shaky. Whatever it is I am doing, I feel like I should be doing something else.
Take yesterday. Yesterday was a good day. Yesterday was a hard day.
As I hunkered down at my desk, Nanny and the girls said goodbye. They were off on an adventure. I did several hours of work. I published a blog post. I edited copy for the back of my book. I tried to respond to some emails. I made lists of things I would never have time to do.
Then I met a wonderful woman for lunch. A double Columbia grad and accomplished writer. A fun girl, a veritable fountain of wisdom and wit. We sat there chatting and brainstorming about life and books. It was an incredible meeting. Fruitful. Fascinating. Fun.
But there were moments where my mind betrayed me, flitting elsewhere. I thought of two little girls jumping on a rainbow trampoline. I thought of their smiles.
And then. I walked uptown to the bris for a good friend’s baby boy. I sat there, in the vast synagogue, flanked by well-wishers, celebrating life. And though I felt like a bit of an outsider – and I was – it was a lovely ceremony and wonderful to see the raw emotion on my good friend’s face. After the service, we gathered for food and drink. I caught up with old friends. It was nice.
But my mind was elsewhere. I checked my phone. Nanny had sent a report. The girls had eaten pizza and they had bought a birthday present for Toddler’s friend. They had taken good, long naps.
I turned to my friends said, “I miss my girls. I need to go home.” And I left.
At home, the girls scampered about, naked and wild, while Nanny ran their bath. I twirled them around and smothered them with kisses. And then they took a bath while I got ready for a book party in Midtown. Not just any book party. Gretchen Rubin‘s book party.
Husband came home from work and I gave him a quick kiss. I peeked in the living room and my babes were there, sweet-smelling in their pajamas. I said bye-bye. Night night.
At the book party, I stuck close to my friend (a fellow member of the writer/mother species) who was kind enough to invite me. I scanned the room. I studied the distinguished, mildly familiar faces of important people. I said hello to Gretchen. She congratulated me on my cover. This made me smile. And I met a few people. Big time writers with firm handshakes and names I can’t remember. For the most part, I stood there in a sea of strangers, feeling like an impostor, missing my girls. My mind went rogue once more. I pictured Husband reading Goodnight Moon to Baby. I pictured him singing our bedtime song to Toddler. I pictured him on the couch with our cats.
I wanted to be home.
And soon I was. We didn’t stay long at the party. I came home. I dropped my bag. I kicked off my shoes. I curled up next to Husband on the couch. I buried my face in his sweater. I was quiet. I pictured my girls. Their sweet and slumbering faces. I ate an embarrassing amount of Thai leftovers. As if Pad Thai was the cure. And then I ate a big cupcake. Which made me feel a bit sick.
As we were climbing in to bed, I broke my silence. I said, “Today was an amazing day, but it was such a hard day. I missed the girls.”
Husband nodded.
“I don’t know what I want,” I said.
And we talked a little. And cuddled a little. And then went to sleep.
But I awoke before 4am thinking about balance, feeling a bit ill from the noodles and frosting and uncertainty. My mind cycled through lists of what I need to do today, this week, this month. Sadness and confusion and panic crept over me as my cat purred beside me.
And so I got up. I made coffee. And I sat down. Here. In this good place. This hard place. I sit here, gripping my mug, squinting into a bright screen, contemplating bologna and balance. And I realize something.
This is about bologna.
This is about balance.
Balance is bologna. (I would use another word that rhymes with Mullfit, but as we determined yesterday, I am too much of a wuss good girl.)
What I realized. What I am realizing (the hard way): Life is shaky ground. Life is about shifting seas. Life is about being in one place and missing another. Life is about crumbling under should. Life is about pursuing professional passion while desperately missing babies. Life is about savoring and snuggling babies while longing for professional passion. Life is having and wanting and slipping and stumbling.
Life is about good days. And hard days. And days that are both.
Now it is 5:33am. Approaching a normal, passable hour. The loves of my life are still deep in slumber. My coffee is gone. And I feel a bit better. Because I have spilled some words. Done some work. And now? Now I will return the bologna to the fridge. Now I will pour a little more coffee. And wait for blue eyes to open.
Now I will wait for the day to begin. A day with the girls. We will make messes and laugh and maybe cry. We will bounce on a big girl bed, chucking stuffed animals over the edge. Maybe we will eat bologna. But first we will poke holes and make eyes. And then we will carve out smiles. Big ones. Because smiley slices of bologna are pretty yummy.
Yes, I wait for a new day to begin.
A good day.
A hard day.
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Do you think balance is attainable or a figment of our imagination? Do you think balance is in good part mental, that if we tell ourselves we are balanced we feel balanced? Am I the only one who is having a hard time with this, suffocating under an avalanche of should, feeling stretched? How do we begin to balance kids and careers? Thoughts on bologna?
This comment is going to be a bunch of contradictions. I think balance is a figment of our imagination. I truly believe this yet believe that good mental health needs us to strive for what we think may be balance.
You are nowhere near the only one struggling with this. I think every parent, though it seems to be more prevalent in mothers or mothers talk about it more, struggles with balance. Do I do what would be best for me or what would be best for my child/ren? Do I keep going to a job I hate or do I try to find one I love but chance under- or unemployment that will hurt my family?
Balance is truly unattainable and, if anyone tells you otherwise, they are full of bologna!
I think that balance, in the way we imagine it (never wanting to be somewhere else, always feeling like you have it under control, no regrets) IS unattainable. I also think that those of us who care about balance are the ones who will likely never believe we have achieved it because we are perfectionists, overacheivers, etc., and by nature always think there is something else we should be doing even when, to the rest of the outside world, we are wildly successful and have everything going for us.
Balance is perception. Balance is personal. Balance is a pressure to appear perfect to others. One person’s balance would not suit another. Although I do not have children, I constantly feel the pull to spend more time on me. Resting, doing what I enjoy, spending time alone, whatever it is, instead of constantly feeling like I have to do what it is that everyone else wants or expects me to do. That is my balance pull. And yes, at times, I feel like there are many more things I should be doing. I should be volunteering — I miss is. I should be taking better care of my house — it’s dirty. I should be reading all those books I have stacked up in my to read pile — I love reading. I should be cooking more from scratch — it’s healthier, cheaper and I love cooking. I should be riding more — I want to be competitive right? I should be sleeping more — I am a zombie.
BUT, I am okay. I am here. I am not inherently unhappy. I am just an overachieving perfectionist who has always and will most likely continue to feel this way. The world continues to rotate, my friends continue to love me, my house hasn’t fallen down around me, and my animals continue to survive despite sometimes late meals and days where they don’t get ridden. It is okay.
As for bologna, there is a town not far from where I live, called Lebanon, PA, where they drop a bologna on New Year’s Eve in a fashion similar to a ball drop. I find it hilarious and yet, also kind of gross. In fact Lebanon Bologna (as a style of bologna) even has its own Wikipedia page!! It’s a Pennsylvania Dutch creation. Seeing as it is pretty much a hotdog rolled out and sliced, it’s not my go to lunch meat of choice, but I don’t judge
I know kids love it!!
I think balance is attainable, as long as you are flexible with yourself. Each day may not feel balanced but overall if you are spending enough time fulfilling pursuits of the heart (family, babies, yourself) and enough time filling your professional desires then there is balance in your life, even if for some days/weeks/months all you do is work and for some other stretches of time all you do is hunker down with your babes and hubby.
I have fully put my career on hold, for now, to spend 100% of my time devoted to my baby. And yet, I feel balanced, because (maybe delusionally) I think I can go back to my career later and more than that because spending all of my time with my baby girl feels like it balances out all of those long, hard, late nights I spent toiling away at the office. Not balance day to day, but overall life balance.
More important than balance for me is feeling like I am spending my time doing what I want to do most. I miss the intellectual stimulation of work, but for now I can live without it. I don’t ache for it. I know, alternatively, that if I were at work, I would feel as if I couldn’t live without my baby and I would certainly ache for her. So the question for me is not what can I live with, but what can’t I live without. Missing her everyday would be more than I can bear. As she grows, this all may change… we’ll see.
Bologna, balance, same thing. I try to keep a healthy work/life bologna.
I guess its hard for me to put myself in your situation, since mine is quite opposite. If you find you are missing your girls, why don’t you just rearrange your schedule so that every day included a couple of hours with them just the three of you? That way you wouldn’t feel you were missing out and you could still get work done. They are only young once!
I think balance is mullfit. I think back to the long-ago comment that won me so much ire at an HBS alumnae event, where I posited that being in a position of tension between children that you love and work that you love is a pretty high class problem. I still believe that. And of course I realize that the various demands on you (and me) are myriad, and much more complex than just “home” and “work.” But I also know, that for me at least, the tension is the price I’ll gladly pay for having all of those facets in my life. At least that’s what my choices suggest. A simpler life, a clearer vision of who I am and what I want, is something I long for but never seem to approach. So maybe that is something, right there.
Lindsey, did you really get flak for that comment? Wow.
I think so many of us are struggling with balance. I feel like I do too much and don’t do enough. I try hard to do my best but realize that I’m doing nothing well. I bust my butt to meet everyone’s needs but forget my own. Tis the way of things. Sigh.
I hear you.
I’m with Kitch. Being torn between beloved work and beloved children is a problem of privilege, plain and simple. And Lindsey, you were insightful (and brave, apparently!) to say so.
Aidan, I love this post because it mirrors some of my own confusion about what I want in life. I have such grand aspirations for my life, and yet I’m happiest with my husband, son, and a few close friends.
I frequently find myself saying that balance is the key to [insert conundrum here], but I’m not sure that I really have any idea what that means. And so it is that I continue to grasp at straws until I find the combination that feels right.
PS – I wasn’t until I got to the end of your post that I realized you were using “bologna” as a replacement for “mullfit” and not as a metaphor. After “The Sandwich of Time” post my first guess was “metaphor” and not “idiom.” Boy did I feel stupid…
{Disclaimer: this response is long}
“I don’t know what I want” is heart-wrenchingly honest. Bless you for naming this. Being in one place with heart and mind elsewhere…it’s so involuntary and cheats us out of being present and it sucks.
I’ve started to accept that balance is less about two opposing forces duking it out on a fulcrum and really am embracing the aspect of life being more like a pie (strawberry-rhubarb to be exact) with each aspect holding their own piece of the pie. You know…family , career, health etc etc. Charting where you’re at on a scale of 1-10 in each aspect (1 being pretty darned unsatisfied to 10 being, well, a 10) with 1 being close to the center and 10 being the periphery of the pie. String the values and see how bumpy it is gives us the chance to see where we’re missing out. Coaching 101 stuff, but a good snapshot nonetheless.
I’ve also learned to embrace the moments of indigestion (whether from noodles and frosting or from stomache-turning shoulds). In the cold light of day, the areas that need attention become that much more apparent. And shift happens.
Thank you for sharing and being willing to be vulnerable.
Tanya – Welcome to the comment box. Thank you so much for this insightful, metaphor-laden comment. I love the idea of life as a pie and full of fleeting moments of existential indigestion.
I think you are right that we should embrace these moments for they are signs, indicators of things on which we should cast our focus. I think this is a wonderful way to look at things, to tell ourselves that anxiety and uncertainty – when they arrive – are indicators of areas we need to explore. I very much hope you continue to pop by here and leave your compelling crumbs of wisdom.
Your soul-stirring writing was a big part of my decision to take the day today to spend with my 5 year-old daughter who is on day 3 of recovering from chicken pox. Because it felt important and because I was able to today (which is not always so). So we went to a science centre and watched the stars in the planetarium swirl around us, and we mimicked each other and we laughed and ate ice cream and she made me insane and we talked about bullies and she wanted toys and she wanted more ice cream and then she had a belly ache and then she napped in the car and when I got out, I kissed her soft cheek that smelled of Burt’s Bees lotion and I thought of you and sent you a thank you from my heart for reminding me how precious and fleeting clarity can be…and how important it is to act on it before it vanishes into the abyss of “shoulds”.
Yes, I will be back.
Chills. The good kind. Again.
So interesting that you put balance and bologna in the same post – for me, anyway. My boys tried bologna for the very first time yesterday. I’ve stayed away from it (because really, what is IN that stuff?) but they’ve been begging me to shake up their “hell-fy” lunches. And I figured, what’s wrong with one day of bologna. They’re tired of pitas with hummus, carrot sticks and apples. So I decided to aim for a little balance. Then I come here and you’re pondering the same thing – in a much more eloquent way. Enjoyed it!
Balance is hard to attain..while looking back at ’09, jotting down my accomplishments, I realized it was a fabulous year in terms of family, love and friendship. But the worst year of my career…the biggest dry spell since I graduated college. Maybe we can’t be all around perfect ALL the time! I wish we could be. But when your out pursuing your passion, the people at home are left behind & vice versa. Yet we can’t eliminate any one of these elements from our lives without feeling the void. So we have to accept that one day will go to career, one day to family, one day to neither, one day to both…and that attaining balance is, just as you said, bologna!
My daughter is grown and building a world and life of her own. Still…almost daily I feel the pull of one thing or another over another. Balance is definitely an allusive ghost to me.
I think the older we get the more time seems to spin out of control. Not enough hours in a day to accomplish all that we wish for.
So what is to be done? Weigh which situation is hefty for that day and calls out louder than the rest. Some days it will be the girls, some days the writer will dominate. I think if you live life with a sense of having given of yourself (even if it’s only in small portions in some areas), you will come as close to complete and balanced as is humanly possible.
Me? I think life is way too distracting for balance. I just let the day carry me where it may. In my case it seems to work best that way.(Hugs)Indigo
The image of you being up so early in the morning working really resonated with me — because while I can’t really comment on the balance issue for myself, it’s definitely been something I’ve seen in my mom being pulled between work, family, and herself. When me and my brother were in middle school (so less of the little-kid-parenting pull) she started writing on top of her full-time job (she works in educational publishing so it’s all inter-connected sort of). She would be in her little office at night after dinner and early in the morning writing away, and I remember waking up to the comforting sound of her typing. By any external measure she had no balance at all, she was working all the time and still managing to put together dinner, and didn’t really have any time to herself. But it was what she truly wanted to do so to her I don’t think it felt like a balance problem, and none of the rest of us begrudged her that. It was obvious how it was what really made her feel fulfilled and passionate, and that’s definitely inspiring to see. And I don’t think she has ever regretted it.
So what I’m trying to say is that I don’t think you should take some outside measure of what “balance” should be, only you know what your priorities are and how much you’re willing to be pulled one way or the other.
You know there are just days that feel “off” and you can’t always put your finger on why. Part of the shaky ground and shifting seas you described.
I can get myself worked up about balance one day and then feel pretty balanced the next without ever having made a change. Go figure.
Is this a “woman’s issue?” Do men feel unbalanced or is it just us women because our roles are so big and diverse now, if we want them to be.
I appreciate that instead of flaunting your big night out and making everything seem so perfect, you spilled your feelings.
Well, I don’t know the first thing about bologna (I’m vegetarian, and that looks VERY non-veggie!) but the feelings of un-balance and competing demands on your time…. that’s all very familiar. And I don’t even have kids.
The sum of all the parts is greater than the whole…
Balance is the sum of parts both good and bad; almost never in equal portions, as it happens. All of life is a cycle- the parts that are good now may be bad later, and vice versa.
Balance? Images of a tetter-totter and a scale of justice come to mind revealing that one half of something tends to be up-in-the-air or seemingly neglected. Baloney!
Imbalance allows you to be the caring, introspective writer that you are and with balance…who knows
Possible solution: Everything in moderation.
I hadn’t read this yet when I sent you that email earlier today – I swear! These feelings must be in the air; they certainly were for me when I was trying not to be bitter about being in the office last night at 9:30 and kept reminding myself that I CHOSE my job (the particular job being a whole other issue than the choice to work vs. not work — and the job itself being more the topic of the email I sent earlier…) and there are myriad reasons for that choice, but really I was just desperately missing my girl and was picturing in her bath…
I love what Lindsey said and wish I could feel so sure of things in my own head. For me part of the problem is having trouble articulating what I want and then balancing that with what I need – and if I can’t find the balance within my own head, how can I ever hope to find the balance between my internal life and external life, let alone my life with my kids and Husband and my professional life. An issue that I think about all the time.
When I’m plugging away in my office, not to be disturbed, and the kids and my husband are having a blast in another room, I think that there’s a price to pay for everything. I’m lucky enough that I don’t have to work a 40 hour a week job anymore and that I get to be a role model to my kids that you can be what you dream of being. That I could start absolutely nowhere and yet end up somewhere else through hard work and believing in myself.
That’s a cool lesson and one I now consider an important part of parenting, though I didn’t know it going into it. I thought I was just writing because I had to.
There’s not much more that I can add that hasn’t already been beautifully and accurately said above but I know I struggle every single day with balance. But if I didn’t have these struggles of all the different aspects of my life fighting with one another, then I know something would be MISSING. I feel lucky to have to make the choices that I make each day but I also feel despair that I don’t think I’LL ever be in a place where I feel like I’m doing ANYTHING 100% well. I left my career to help with the problem but really, that space got filled up with something else that demands my time.
And like Gale said above, I had NO IDEA where you were going with the bologna until the end. I thought you were talking about how unbalanced the ingredients were in this mystery meat. HA! My brain was a bit slow but I’m glad it caught up because in the end, I loved your substitution for the more daring, more colorful word choice!
I’m not sure if there is such a thing as balance. I think we all stive for it (don’t we? shouldn’t we?). I think sometimes, for me anyways, the dishes are done, the to-do list is somewhat caught up, the blog has been updated, the children have been kissed, we have lost a pound or two, we have done groceries, we have had a good day/week/month…and then, there it is, for a fleeting moment: balance. And then, well, then. Life. Sometimes I can go so drastically from feeling in total balance and control to spinning wildly, panicked, depressed, overwhelmed, that I think maybe, just maybe, I need medication…
I absolutely loved having lunch with you yesterday, and it’s so funny because when I read your post all I could think about was…PERSPECTIVE. I flew in there in old jeans and a scrubby shirt looking like hell – - moving is hell! – - and there you were – wife, mother, writer – and just so flawlessly turned out I felt like I was out of balance! And then when I feel out of balance I overcompensate and babble – balance, babble bologna…and then I fed Harold (for everyone else that’s my shitzu) the turkey slices I got for him later, and he threw up on the rug I had just gotten delivered that morning.
Le sigh.
Okay that was a tangent – - I cannot WAIT for your book – - the minute you told me what it was about I needed it immediately. And best of all, I love that our friendship is rooted in teaching your little sis in the 7th grade all those years ago.
On a final note, balanced people are lame. It’s a little awesome to be just a little nuts. Secretly, of course. . .
Anisha – Welcome to my cozy comment box! Kick off your stilettos (or gold Uggs!) and make yourself at home. Yes, it is all about perspective, the myriad and conflicting ways we see each other and the world. There I was thinking, “Look at this accomplished writer with her fabulous life effortlessly looking exquisite in her flannel shirt and baseball hat.” Yes, Perspective. Or as you might say perspective.com.
Le sigh indeed.
I hope your rug has survived and I look forward to more lunches (and maybe a girls’ night!!) too. Until then, I will live vicariously through your insanely cool existence. Sound good?
Balance. I loathe the word. I have for quite sometime. Maybe because it is now everywhere. Work/Life Balance. Blah blah blah. I mean really, is there such a thing? Should I feel horrible that I often feel so IMbalanced? These are usually my thoughts.
But now, now I am starting to question why I hate the word so much. Is it because I, too, would like to feel balanced and just cannot seem to get there? Like it is unattainable? But also that I am failing at something?
Balance. Still not too fond of the word. I’ve written about it before as well. And for many months have had my own long post brewing, but have yet to type it out. (Time, where art thou? I know, stuck in the atmosphere with your friend, “balance”).
Bologna, however. Now that’s a word I can get behind. Funky and odd, like the product itself.
I am 48 and my kids are almost all grown, 15, 18 and 22. This is the endless struggle. You either give more to the kids and long for more professionally. Or you give more to the career and long for more kid time. It just seems to me that few women with children escape this dilemma. I gave more to the kids and don’t regret it. But parts of me still say “what if…” What if I’d had more help, made more dough, had more time for my writing. Where might I be now??
So, no regrets, but always this sense of urgency.
Good post, thanks.
I think balance is something we do, not something we attain. We don’t achieve balance we just… balance. We stand with one foot on each side of our life’s fulcrum, trying to keep from falling over. Maybe what you’re experiencing right now — all those conflicting emotions/desires, not knowing what you want, wanting to be two places at once, two people at once (which happen to be the exact same things I’m feeling right now!) — maybe that’s what balance feels like. The yearning that motivates us to do the dance that we do, that little wiggle to keep from teetering over, maybe that’s what defines the balanced life. Standing at the fulcrum, one foot on each side, doing our best to stand tall.