Someone told me a long time ago that life has four basic parts that we can visualize as an all-arms-equal cross, like the Red Cross symbol. The four arms are: faith and spirituality; health, joy, and personal well-being; family, friends, and other heart connections; and work in the world: survival, service, creativity, fulfillment.
Where we get caught up is thinking that each arm is supposed to stay static, that to achieve balance we need to give each part of our lives equal attention every day. That’s not how it works in the real world. When you have a baby or young children, that arm representing family gets longer than the others. It’s supposed to. If your company is in trouble and you’re working just about ’round the clock to save it, the work arm can seem out of balance, but for now, that’s precisely how it needs to be. And when you get away on retreat or to a spa to focus on your inner and outer self, those arms devoted to health and spirituality will extend themselves in a way that makes that “perfect” cross look unbalanced, but actually puts your life and your self and your soul in their highest state of functioning.
Balance is not about dividing your sixteen waking hours four ways and giving each part of your life a certain amount of time. It is, rather, responding to what is in front of you, tending to “the next indicated thing.” This kind of balance is more like the ballerina’s than the juggler’s. It’s staying in that lovely state of poise and equilibrium, giving full attention to the task at hand, whether it’s a hike or a yoga pose, writing a report for work or reading somebody special a bedtime story just one more time.





posted June 4, 2009 at 4:44 pm
Thanks for the reminder.
posted June 5, 2009 at 10:45 pm
Hi, Victoria. I have a copy of Living a Charmed Life and have referred to the chapter on “Doing the Next Indicated Thing” several times since losing my job in a layoff this year. Your voice and practical wisdom continue to be a source of inspiration. Thank you for doing what you do. It must take stamina, and like all vocations it must require sacrifice. Thank you for paying those costs and following your dream. You’ve enriched my life and are helping me follow my own dream.
Martha