Work-Life Sanity Blog

I had a very rich experience recently.  I was visiting my then-8-week-old grandson at his home in Philadelphia.  I had almost two whole weekdays (just the days, not the evenings) as his sole caretaker.   It was a gift to have this much time with him. 

For me, much about this experience was remarkable.  First, I had cleared my plate completely and was able to be undivided in my attention to him.  My clients knew I was checking email and phone only in the evening, and I was otherwise on vacation from my professional life.  I had no meals to prepare, no errands to run, no one really expecting anything from me.  Life was very simple: it was just about the baby.  And there was no rush.

When my own children were little, even when I was working part-time, even when I knew enough with my second baby to take some maternity leave, there were always competing demands for my attention: my work, the house, meals, my husband, the other child, etc.  

Spending this time with my grandbaby, I had no competing demands, and there was no need to be in a hurry.

What a joyful experience — to be fully present, in the present, with this new little guy.   Granted, being with one’s own first grandchild is a very special, off-the-charts experience.

But so was being undivided and in the present.

It reminded me how much there is to be gained by being fully present to whatever I’m doing, whenever possible.  It reminded me how stressful it is to multi-task– even to just mentally multi-task.  And how in contrast, just being here now, wherever and whatever “here” is, is actually a qualitatively different experience.  And a better one. 

Since returning from Philly I’ve been able to bring some of this consciousness with me.  It’s helped me be in less of a hurry all the time.  It’s also helped me be more singleminded about what I’m doing.  When writing this post, for example, I’ve been able to just work on the post, rather than also feeling pulled in other directions.  

Sometime today or this week or this month, I encourage you to give yourself the gift of just doing one thing at a time.  Have a taste of being here now.  Even if you’re just clearing your desk or composing a simple email, I suspect it will feel better than it usually does.  If you try this while being in conversation with someone, I suspect the shift will be even more palpable.   

Moments of being here now and not rushing can serve as little oases where you can refresh.

Fourteen years of coaching professional women have taught me some of the most prevalent patterns of imbalance and the interventions that can restore a sense of well-being and sanity.  

I don’t mean to sound facile about these solutions.  The details are always unique to the individual and difficult for her to see from within the experience.  Moving forward generally happens very slowly.  I don’t believe in a happily-ever-after kind of unconscious happiness, but I passionately believe that some kinds of suffering can be alleviated. 

Here are two patterns of imbalance — experienced as unhappiness — I’ve witnessed with my clients, my friends, and myself, and the course corrections that can make a difference.

1. Feeling out of control, overwhelmed, powerless.  The solution for this  generally involves:  

·     naming it as such, and thereby differentiating it from the feelings of despair, failure, and self-loathing that often accompany it

·     taking back control, increment by increment, wherever possible, by renegotiating agreements, selectively jettisoning obligations, re-prioritizing, and whatever else it takes

As a result, the individual regains firmer ground and some level of control in her life, and feels back in her own power again.  

2. Feeling drained, exhausted, depleted, even sick. 

·     Here too, the place to start is with awareness: name it for what it is, and separate it out from the sense of shame, emptiness, and failure that people often feel as a result of no longer having enthusiasm or passion FOR ANYTHING.  The no-enthusiasm-for-anything syndrome often shows up in people who are very drained and exhausted.

·     Generally what’s also called for is serious rest, recovery, and replenishment which often means cutting back somewhere in order to make room for this. 

In my experience, once people GET that this is what’s going on, that it’s not about personal failure but rather about personal depletion, the reframe is very empowering and they quickly figure out what to do.  They often need support thinking through the pragmatics of it and then implementing it.  Cutting back is particularly difficult for women with a habitual pattern of pleasing others.

As the depletion and exhaustion are replaced with a sense of being nourished and re-charged, at least some of the unhappiness recedes, leaving a generally happier camper.   And a more effective one.

Adequate self-care often results in greater effectiveness, across the board.  This ripple-out effect often surprises the individual, who may feel ”selfish” in administering the self care (often as a last resort).  But it does make sense.  Who’s likely to be the more effective manager, parent, or creative problem-solver: the person who’s exhausted, frazzled, and running on empty or the one whose batteries are charged and whose focus is unambivalent?

If you won’t do it for yourself, do it for your work or your kids.

In a recent conversation with several people about blogging, I realized that I’ve been making things unnecessarly difficult for myself by requiring that my blog posts be about 500 words long.   Of course I’ve read other people’s posts that are shorter, but I never made the connection that mine could be shorter too.

I know I’m not the only person who makes things more difficult than they need to be, but I’m the one I know the best. 

For a long time I thought that work was supposed to be hard.   If it wasn’t hard, it didn’t count, I thought: it wasn’t worthy somehow.   Once I became aware of that thought pattern, I was able to see that it didn’t serve me, and I started the process of learning how to allow things to be easier, which is turning out to be a lifelong process. 

This is iteration number 99 of “it doesn’t have to be difficult.”  My posts at this blog can be be as long or as short as they need to be.

In the Preoccupations  column in today’s New York Times, economist Sylvia Ann Hewlett writes that what women executives do to unwind is . . . NOTHING.  They lust for “chunks of empty space — no expectations, no agendas.” 

It’s not just women executives, I would add.  Any over-scheduled, busy professional would do well to use this strategy for re-charging her batteries.  I use the word “strategy” intentionally, because for most intensely busy people the prospect of doing nothing is complete anathema.  But when understood as a strategy for restoring one’s sanity, it’s more easily considered. 

In today’s post on her Profitable Consultant blog, internet marketing specialist Dianna Huff writes about her own experience regularly ”doing nothing” as a break from her work (as a marketing professional, entrepreneur, and advisor to profitable consultants).  She says the impact of taking such a break is that “I usually come back to the ‘real world’ refreshed, relaxed and focused.”

If you don’t regularly give yourself the gift of a real break like this, you’ll feel some guilt when you start.  But don’t let that keep you from starting.  Start small, with just a few minutes at a time.  It might feel boring at first, and you might be racked with guilt.  But tough it out; it’s worth it. 

“Doing nothing” not only re-charge your batteries, it can also put you into a state of receptivity to your own intuition and creativity.  Albert Einstein said something that applies here: ”The significant problems we have cannot be solved at the same level of thinking with which we created them.” 

The truth is, you are not ACTUALLY doing nothing when you are “doing nothing.”  You are simply stepping out of active ”doing” and “thinking” mode,  and that allows other parts of your brain and your being to kick in, in the background.

This week someone told me about a tradition she has created in her family.  They call it Pajama Thanksgiving. 

She and her husband and their two young children get up on Thanksgiving Day when they feel like getting up, and they stay in their pajamas.  She gets a turkey into the oven when she does, and when it’s ready, they sit down and have a meal, the four of them together. 

 It’s the most relaxed and easy day in the entire year for them.

This is otherwise a very, very busy family. Both parents work full time, the kids go to school and extended day programs and do the kinds of activities that many kids do: music lessons, sports, theater, Sunday School, and so on. 

The parents crave time with their children with no agenda, no schedule to adhere to, no competing commitments.  The children crave time with their parents.  So there is no multi-tasking on Pajama Thanksgiving, no Blackberries in use, no company to get ready for, no time that everyone has to be “ready.”  

A Pajama Thanksgiving may not appeal to YOU in the least.  But for this family, this is just heavenly.   They love spending this day together.  The parents read to the kids.  The older daughter reads to her little brother.  They play games.  They make up games.  

When the little guy naps, the parents nap too, and the daughter watches a movie.   There might be a cookie-baking project.  There might be a crafts project.  There might not be.  As a family, they let the day unfold and they are each present to create and experience it with each other.  It is their authentic holiday. 

They have created their TG tradition from the inside out.  It’s not about the appearance of it;  it’s not about the form.   The form is simply the result of the deep inner need that’s getting satisfied:  the need for connected down time together with these particular people.  The need for a safe haven from the loud, incessant demands of daily life.  The need to not have to be “productive” in the task-list sense of things.

Many of us have created holiday traditions that are patterned after our workdays: there’s a schedule, there are people to see or people who come over, there is a timetable, there is pressure, there are people depending on us to deliver in certain ways, there are expectations to live up to.

The Pajama Family draws a strong boundary around this day and creates for themselves the holiday they truly need.

 What do you call a working mother whose kids have grown up and left home?  She’s no longer a “working mother” as we’ve all come to know and understand the term.  I’ve come up with the term “Working Mom Emeritus.”  What do you think?  Is there a more concise way to express this?  

There are a lot of us out here.  Our kids are now in their 20s and 30s, and some of them are beginning to have children of their own.  Some of us are even involved in the care of those kids, our grandchildren.  (My own daughters (age 27 and 31) have dogs, not kids.)

Here’s what I can tell you about work life balance from the other side of the intensive parenting years.  It gets vastly simpler.  Not necessarily easier, because if you have a tendency to be a workaholic, well, there’s even more opportunity to do so when you’re not committed to getting to the ice hockey game or having a decent dinner on the table by 6:30.  But it does get simpler.

For one thing, there are fewer stakeholders.  After the intensive parenting years, it’s just you and possibly a significant other in your primary circle.  It’s not that your adult children want nothing to do with you.  Hopefully, you play your cards in such a way and are lucky enough that you are still part of their lives and vice versa.  But you’re just not in their lives in the same daily, intensive way.  And it’s really OK.

And then there’s your work, which of course can consume your whole life.  The challenge is to stay conscious and intentional about how you allocate your time and where you draw your boundaries.  

For some of us, it was easier to have firm boundaries around work when our other time went to our very compelling other work: our children.  When there are no children at home, there is a very real risk of giving it all away to work.  Particularly for driven women who have not yet “made their mark” and for women in challenging financial straits.  

But the beautiful little non-intuitive secret is that giving it all away is not sustainable.  Being completely out of balance with overwork is like trying to run a marathon without drinking any water.  You crash and burn.  You can’t finish the event.  The ONLY way to finish an endurance event is to hydrate along the way.  Which translates into doing the things that nourish you for the long haul, whatever they are for you.  For most people that includes having regular time off from task list mindset.