Life In The Balance

“Suffering is normal.”

“Work is supposed to be hard.”

“I have to keep busy.”

“No pain, no gain.”

“Idle hands are the Devil’s playground.”

“Life is not supposed to be easy.”

Damn that Protestant Work Ethic.

It’s those deeply ingrained PWE messages that hold us back from making changes leading to more satisfaction, happiness and meaning. We’re all so nose-to-the-grindstone, unhappy-as-hell, but-hey-what-can-I-do-about-it people.

What frustrated folks may not know is this: the key to a balanced life is a fair measure of joy. Of purposeless fun. Of play.

Which is diametrically opposed the good old PWE.

Know what I mean? We take something that is supposed to be joyful fun, like, oh… running through a forest, feeling the wind on your skin and your hair, smelling the fragrance of the deep woods, spying a shy fawn, or a curious fox. And we turn it into, “Gotta go nine today so I’ll be ready for the marathon.”

Sure, having a purpose gives us something to strive for, but often bypasses the underlying joy of simply doing a thing we love.

A woman I know was lamenting this week that her just conferred Master’s degree didn’t seem to be that valuable in this job market. I asked, “Why did you decide on that field of study?” She answered, “Because I was really interested in it, and I thought it would be fun.” I paused a moment. “So you enjoyed the learning?” She said, “Oh, yes!” I asked, “Isn’t that enough?”

Learning for learning’s sake — ever known that feeling?

To achieve balance in your life, sometimes you need to allow yourself to do something for the sheer fun of it — and not because it will lead to something else. Something “productive.” If you have the time, the money and the interest, why not take a class? Or get a Master’s degree? Or a PhD, for that matter? With no eye toward where it will “get” you?

Why not enjoy yourself?

There’s a point that comes in everyone’s life — and for some of us it comes more than once — when you know things have to change. Yet you ignore the stirrings of your heart, the urgings of your soul, because making a change might seem indulgent.

Which is a definite PWE no-no.

There’s the doctor who would really like to open a bead shop, but how would that look? All those years of medical school — a waste?

Or the lawyer who would like to be a non-profit case worker. Law school down the drain?

Or the one-time-CPA mom who would like to go back to work, but do something that doesn’t involve numbers. At all. Ever. Shouldn’t she just keep up her certification, just in case?

Not necessarily.

We are all the sum total of our life’s experiences. I know that nothing I’ve ever done in my life — the good, the bad, the extremely ugly — was a waste. It’s all added up to make me the person I am today, and that feels pretty daggone good.

When you get the chance to reinvent your life, you get the chance to use everything you’ve got. When you get the chance to increase your joy, and, nifty by-product, achieve that elusive life balance, take it. Regardless of the little messages that tell you that following your heart is indulgent or purposeless.

If you are stuck, or itchy, or worried, or out of balance — forget the PWE. Focus on joy. And the rest will follow.

Mama Ain’t Happy

Turns out women aren’t happy.

Turns out the older women get, the sadder they become.

Turns out once she hits 47 years old, a woman’s happiness declines quite steadily.

Or so I read an article this week in the Huffington Post, written by Marcus Buckingham.

Buckingham is a smart guy — his work has transformed the way we talk about work and life by shifting our collective focus from shoring up weaknesses to centering in strengths.

I like him.

So back to this women-are-increasingly-unhappy idea… what’s the deal?

In the article, Buckingham says it’s not because women are paid less than men, although that is a fact. Nor is it because women assume more of the household chores than their male partners. Also a fact. And it’s not because women have limited opportunities. Because we have so many more opportunities than our grandmothers did.

Why are women aging unhappily?

Of course, I have a theory.

Let’s call it the Disillusionment Theory.

From the work I do with women, it seems that for a certain generation the message we got growing up was, “Be a good girl, don’t have strong opinions or talk too much, get along, be pretty enough to catch a husband, have kids and then everything will be easy for you.”

And what happens to many women by the time they turn 47? The kids you put your life on hold for are grown up and have their own lives. The husband you put through medical school left the marriage. The parents who defined you as their darling good girl have died. Your body’s not the same. The media tells you that you’re no longer pretty enough or young enough to catch a man’s eye, let alone a second husband. It’s grim.

Because your whole life you played by the rules, but in mid-life the rules seem to have changed. Life is not easy.

Nothing’s the way it should be.

But we know, and Buckingham documents, the women who find deep happiness and satisfaction despite the loss trajectory of their lives. What do they have that other women don’t?

Buckingham gives us some juicy tidbits about the happiest women — they:

* Don’t agonize over who they aren’t—they accept and act on who they are. They have discovered the role they were born to play and they play it.
* Don’t juggle—they catch-and-cradle. They don’t keep things at bay, but select a few things and draw them in close.
* Don’t strive for balance—they strive for fullness. They intentionally imbalance their lives toward those moments that make them feel strong.
* Always sweat the small stuff—They know and act on the specific details of what invigorates them (and they let go of what doesn’t strengthen them).

So, to be happy at mid-life, women have to focus on what makes them happy and do more of that. And they have to let go of what no longer makes them happy. They need to find new ways to define themselves — based on their strengths — and drop the old ways they were defined.

In terms I use as a coach, to be happy in mid-life women need to move from living in their “social selves”, concerned with What Other People Will Think, to living firmly in their “authentic selves”, which is who they are at their very core.

Calls to mind Laurel Thatcher Ulrich’s famous quip, “Well-behaved women seldom make history.” Perhaps especially in mid-life, it’s “Well-behaved women are seldom happy.”

Y’know what? I choose happy. If that makes me appear less well-behaved, then so be it. And you are welcome to join me.

And for my fabulous guy readers — if there is a woman in your life who is approaching the happiness tipping point, what can you do? Try this: encourage her to misbehave. Encourage her to step out and step up. Throw away the old rules, and join her in making some new ones. Believe me — you will love it. By encouraging the woman you love to be more fully herself, you will be amazed at the joy and happiness that will flood your life. She’ll be more her, which only allows you to be more you.

Mother’s Day

This column first appeared on Mother’s Day, 2007. Enjoy!

Today is Mother’s Day. I was surprised to learn that Mother’s Day is celebrated on this very day in over 50 countries. Everywhere, mothers are being pampered, fussed over and adored.

As I expect I will be. As someone’s mother myself, I will likely get the traditional breakfast in bed — the surprise of finding shells in my scrambled eggs is one of life’s delights. A surprise that goes exceedingly well with toast and jelly. Especially when made with love by the hands of my children.

But when it comes down to it, I’m not much of a special occasion kinda gal. Sometimes the forced, greeting card nature of a “special day” feels less than special.

So, I have a plan.

I move we dump this holiday and every other single holiday we celebrate during the year.

Yep. That’s right. I’m suggesting we have no Memorial Day, Fourth of July, Labor Day, Valentine’s Day, Thanksgiving, Christmas, Martin Luther King, Jr. Day, Passover, Easter, Yom Kippur or any other occasion we observe.

Including birthdays.

Oh, don’t panic — we’ll celebrate each one. But we’ll celebrate every single day.

If every day were Thanksgiving, we’d live as grateful people, surrounded by family and friends, keenly aware of the abundance in our lives.

If every day were Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, we’d immediately apologize for our mistakes and quickly reconcile our differences.

If every day were Valentine’s Day, we’d pay special attention to those we love.

If every day were Memorial Day, we’d take time to honor the service and sacrifice of our veterans, soldiers, sailors, airmen and Marines, and their families.

If every day were Easter, we’d be filled with awe for resurrection and the possibility of renewal in our own lives.

If every day were Christmas, joy and wonder would permeate our lives.

If every day were Labor Day, we’d celebrate how we do our work, and make it a source of pride.

If every day was Martin Luther King, Jr. Day, we’d remember to judge people on the content of their character and not the color of their skin.

If every day were your birthday, you’d feel special, and honored and loved.

And, if every day were Mother’s Day, all mothers would feel valued, honored and respected by both their families and society — 356 days a year.

Imagine the richness of your life if it were filled with the holiday spirit every day of the year. What could you do? What could you have? Who could you be? Joyful, conscious, loving, living with abundance and open to the wonders of the world?

That would certainly be worth celebrating.

Dog Days

They call them the Dog Days of Summer. As if all we can do is let our tongues loll out of our drooling mouths, and pant in the heat.

Which is exactly what I feel like doing.

Sure, there’s plenty going on. The Olympics. The Presidential campaign. Wars in Afghanistan, Iraq and, now, Russia vs. Georgia. The rising and falling price of energy. Credit card reform. Mortgage bailouts. Vice Presidential candidates and political conventions. A lot of hoopla, come to think of it.

And I don’t want to think about it. All I want to do is lay around, tongue lolling, and let August roll over me like a sauna bath. I want to emerge, sweaty and a few pounds lighter, just in time for September.

I want to eat popsicles, and let them drip from my fingers, leaving sticky, colorful trails down my arms.

I want to do a cannonball off the high dive.

I want to go to the movies and make it a double feature, just so I can sit in the air-conditioning.

I want to clothespin cards to my bike spokes and click-clack down the street.

I want Coppertone as my signature scent.

I want to shuck off all the trappings of this adult life and spend the next couple of weeks utterly retro.

So, even if — like me — you’ll be working rather than loafing, you can take a little time to get some summer in your life.

All it takes is one popsicle.

Repeal HAFTA!

It’s a political year, friends. So give me a minute to scramble up on my soapbox while I enter the fray.

Ahem.

There’s a lot of talk about change these days. Change with a purpose is a good thing. It’s time for big change, ladies and gentlemen. And I am going to propose a sweeping change for the American people — no, a sweeping change for the people of the world.

I’m not talking about ending taxes, or cutting social programs, or combating global climate change. I’m not talking about reform of labor laws, or a change to the legislative process. I’m not advocating a repeal of the Part 33 Rewrite of the Telecommunications Act. I’m not going to open that can of worms. Nor am I going to discuss NAFTA.

No, it’s not NAFTA I’m after. It’s “hafta”.

Friends, it’s time we stop allowing ourselves to be overwhelmed and stressed by all the things we hafta do. It’s time to stand strong and declare that hafta is done, finished and over. There are no more things we hafta do. There are only things we choose to do.

The other morning, a beautiful, blue spring morning, I was driving along enjoying the blooming dogwoods, the eye-popping redbuds and the luminous rhododendrons along my route. At a stoplight, I spied a fit, spandex-clad woman pushing a jogging stroller. Her face was drawn up in a scowl, her body was tight, and she was pushing that stroller like Sisyphus with his rock. Only she was running downhill.

“Where’s the joy?” was my first thought. There she was, on a staggeringly beautiful morning, out with her baby in the sunshine! What’s not to like? But it was as if she was doing penance, or submitting to a purgative. Her body language transmitted, “I am doing this only because I have to. Everyone knows a baby has to be out in the fresh air at least twice a day. I can’t wait until this is over.”

Poor child.

How different if that woman were to turn her point-of-view around and say, “I am the luckiest woman on the face of the planet to have the opportunity to be out with my darling child on such a gorgeous morning.” Imagine her body language under those circumstances.

Imagine your own.

What if your to-do list was blank, and the only things you had to do were things you are happy to do? That you choose to do? That give you energy and buoy your mood? Or, to use an idea of my friend and fellow coach Sharon Pfleiger, what if you could spend your time solely on the things on your “Get-To List”? As in “I get to plant my garden” or “I get to spend time with my best friend”, or, my favorite, “I get to say what I feel.”

Sure, there are things we don’t like to do. Personally, I’m not too fond of trash duty. However, it must be done. I try to do this chore quickly and efficiently so I don’t spend a ton of time on it. The recycling is sorted during the week, the bins are taken to the curb every Tuesday, and the compost pile gets a donation nearly daily. Could be yucky stuff. By not putting it off, or extending the amount of time it takes to finish the task, I make it easy — which frees up time for me to do something I really like. Something from my get-to list.

Like take a walk with my kid.

When you find yourself so governed by have-tos that you have no time for get-tos, then it’s time for change. It’s time for hope. It’s time, ladies and gentlemen, to repeal HAFTA.

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