Be open to action, and to reflection.
Be open to holding on, and to letting go.
Be open to knowing, and to not knowing.
Be open to doing, and to not doing.
In 2007 I took a Himalayan pilgrimage. Over the eight months before I left, I invested in preparing myself for the experience. While those preparations began in the gym, I soon realized that this journey would require more than physical training; it would require mental and spiritual preparation as well.
One day early in my preparations I met a friend for dinner at a Chinese restaurant. When the check came, I opened my fortune cookie. It read,
Balance is more than not falling down.
Wherever you are on your change journey, there is an important lesson here. It is a lesson that applies in so many ways that one could probably blog about it for months. (As my son says, “No worries.” I am just going to highlight a few of them, and move on to another topic next week. I trust you to draw from your own experiences to add to the lessons that I am offering here.)
Just as my pilgrimage required me to call on my physical, spiritual, and mental energy, each change journey makes its own unique energetic demands on us. It may challenge long-held beliefs and practices. It may require us to re-frame our relationship to others, or to work, or to religious or spiritual or political beliefs. Whatever the change, it is likely that successfully completing the journey will not be possible with one shift; rather, multiple shifts will be required.
Perhaps you are still committed to that New Year’s resolution that resulted in a new gym membership. While the gym may be an important element in loosing weight and developing the body that you want, it cannot be the only one if you are to succeed. Doing so may also require you to change your relationship to your body: how you see it, what you expect of it, and/or how you treat it. That’s why I have never understood those people who walk out of the gym and light up a cigarette, or the ones who spend their entire workout telling their buddies about how much they drank over the weekend. It’s not just about the workout.
Balance is more than not falling down.
“Play to your strengths.” There is one theory of change that suggests this is exactly the way to go; build on strengths rather than focus on weaknesses. Another suggests that you should focus on your vulnerabilities, or they will undermine your success; manage them as risks, or risk failing.
Who is right?
In my experience, both are. When the going gets tough, we each tend to play to our strong suit. Perhaps you’re known for making decisions, or taking action, or planning, or anticipating problems, or… And, sometimes your strong suit is exactly what is needed at that point in time.
But sometimes, what is needed is the opposite; sometimes what is needed is your weakness. Perhaps you are strong on reflecting, on finding the solution through a long and deep contemplative process; but circumstances warrant quick decisions and action. Maybe you are known for holding on to things that have had meaning in the past, sustaining traditions or heirlooms, or beliefs; but circumstances call for letting go of these things before the door closes on the opportunity to complete the change.
Balance is more than not falling down.
Do you know your strengths, and your vulnerabilities? Do you consciously choose when to call on each?
Are you at the action gym, or the reflection gym, or the decision gym, becoming the ever-more-masterful exerciser of your strengths? Or, are you at the action gym, or the reflection gym, or the decision gym, working on your vulnerabilities to bring them more into balance with your strengths?
Balance is more than not falling down.
Balance is leveraging your strengths, and strengthening your weaknesses. It is knowing the full range of resources that you have available to you, and calling on each when appropriate.
Balance is being open to action, and to reflection. Balance is being open to holding on, and to letting go. Balance is being open to knowing, and to not knowing. Balance is being open to doing, and to not doing.
Balance is more than not falling down.
What is your experience with balance–or the lack of it–when approaching change?