Balancing Act and a Time Audit

Like every other woman I know, I spend altogether too much time trying to "achieve balance." The fact that that tired phrase includes the word "achieve" is telling. It's held up as a goal for the modern woman; being balanced is an achievement, balance is a treasure we "find."

I've been thinking of this a lot lately. I go through projects in fits and starts, and sometimes I berate myself for not being able to do all the things I want to do in a day. But recently I started reevaluating my standards for completing things. Last month, I caught myself ending a string of days with a sigh of resignation that I "didn't do enough." That was a clear signal that something was indeed out of whack: my perspective.

I love the idea of having a balanced life, a picture perfect combination of rest and activity, of giving to others and cherishing myself, of order and chaos, of consumption and saving, of social activity and alone time.

And why wouldn't I love that idea? Consumer media feeds my desire of such a life with images of a sleek woman in a lotus pose, or a neatly put-together "mommy" type person vacuuming her home with the super-efficient Dyson, or whatever. I'm admittedly hungry for approval, and so a perfect patsy for advertisers who prey on that need. I buy into it, and chase after balance in my life.

The funny thing is that as much as my imagination would like to run with these images and flesh out the details of such a "balanced" creature, I cannot. I can picture pieces of that life, sure: the put-together Kirie, lithe, made-up, wrinkle-free. I imagine patient hours with my kids spent in spotless spaces of my kitchen, my studio. Nutritious dinners, which I have prepared, are eaten, without complaint, by our daughters, and evenings with my husband are quiet and long.

Nowhere in my imaginings are the real nitty-gritty of day-to-day. Into what spaces does the balanced woman squeeze the following?:

• the endless washing and folding of laundry
• the scrubbing of dishes
• the tidying of toys and books and markers that creep under chairs and couches and everywhere else
• the reading time--how one book turns to ten books, and afternoons are dreamed away with a curious toddler cuddled in a lap
• the continual process of reorganizing spaces--drawers, cabinets, shelves
• the packaging and mailing of gifts and letters
• the coaxing of said toddler into naptime, or bedtime, or getting dressed time, etc.
• the visits to friends' houses, the entertaining when a friend visits ours
• the baking--for school, for friends, for our own cookie jar
• the endless sweeping and vacuuming
• the workout--and recovery!
• the self-care time, from a simple shower, to a self-manicure, to keeping my eyebrows neat
• the fixing of all things broken--from the leg of a Playmobil deer to the toilet paper holder that's come out of the drywall
• the cleaning of spills, from milk to scat
• the spontaneous walks or outings or explorations that lead us away from the house for untold hours
• the late night "pop ups" from the kids, with worries about monsters, or excitement about caterpillars
• the mommy-time reading--from books, to blogs, to the newspaper--that fills my mind as I move through the other tasks of the day
• making any kind of art at all--from music to painting
• the phone calls to and from friends
• the slow and savored time spent gathering fruits and flowers from the garden
• the whole chase of groceries, from shopping to putting things onto shelves
• the minutes (or hours) that can be lost because you sat down, and were too exhausted to get up to finish any of the above...

What of these? The advertisers have left these out, the most pleasant, most repetitive, and most necessary parts of the day.

I give up. The logical part of me sees this list and recognizes there is absolutely no way I could complete all of this in the space of a day, or even in a week. I would be crazy to even attempt it. So no more berating myself for not doing it all.

My daily schedule is like a balloon, with finite space in it. Squeeze one end, and the excess air will have to go somewhere. If I take time to do one thing intensively, it will steal time from somewhere else in the schedule. It does not all fit into the small space I've been allowing. So obvious! But I'm only just now starting to recognize that.

Perhaps, over the course of a month, I do have some kind of equilibrium. Regardless, the majority of my tasks these days seems to focus on making order or the illusion of it. Instead of fighting it, I'm trying to accept it as part of life at this stage. As I get older, and our kids get older, I imagine that will shift slightly away from chasing after toys and spills, and into the very different focus that teenagers bring. I recognize that my mix of activities will always include some need to control chaos around me, as well as my need to create new things, whether it be a painting, or a quilt, a costume, or a song. These are endless chases of their own, each pleasurable and challenging in their own way.

With my revised view of balance, perhaps my goal instead should be to look at whether my life is balanced as a whole, as a long line of days that each offers opportunities to indulge in the repetitive or the generative. It seems to me to be a much more forgiving and reasonable perspective. Maybe, if I see it that way, I will start to see I've "achieved" the elusive balance already.

Three Things for Thursday

Three reasons my blog has been post-less for almost two weeks:

1.  Easter.  Yes, it's crazy, but Easter has turned into the mini-Christmas around here, with all the sneaking and intrigue of playing Santa.   It literally takes weeks to pull off such a feat successfully, clandestine visits to candy stores, toy stores, etc.  By the time Easter actually rolls around, I am exhausted!  This year, I found (okay, set up) an email address for the Easter rabbit, so Ada and Esme could ask him whatever questions they wanted.   Of course, there were requests--a glow worm for Esme and a crib nest for Ada's baby.  The Easter bunny came through in the clutch.   And the girls were delighted.   If you want the Rabbit's special email address, let me know.  I just know he'll write you back!

2.  I am still plagued by the irresistible urge to clean and organize corners of the house from end to end.   I do each piece in little bites of 10 or 15 minutes, and the result is that it takes a long time.  And it makes a HUGE mess.  Invariably, 15 minutes into a project, I am interrupted, and what used to be at least hidden behind a cabinet door or stuffed into a drawer is now strewn about the room in piles.  I leave it there to attend to whatever urgency is calling me, and, well--it's not pretty.   Eventually it gets put back, hopefully in some order.   

All that noise about breaking some eggs to make an omelette is at least partially true.  I can say that over the past month I have made some good progress:  The study cabinet is clean, and so is our desk.  All of our camera equipment is organized, and I can actually find what I want quickly!  I have filed the contents of the inboxes (high five myself for that one!), and Ada's school records, drawings, and homeschool materials are sorted by subject and age range.  With all the "new" space, Esme now has her own little section.  That was the fun and gratifying part.  For more grungier work, I excavated under our family room couch and found some long-lost toys and an old, dried out lemon (don't ask--I have no idea, and I am as grossed out as you would be).  In between all this, I've sorted through Esme's old winter clothes, changed in some of her hand-me-down summer clothes, and organized her closet.  One night I pulled out the dvds, and now all of them--even the new ones that seem to rattle around the tv for months--they're are all filed away into huge albums.  I have to say it is calming to see the absence of junk lying around in all the common areas (at least non-toy junk).

The pantry is still calling to me, as is my own closet, and a stack of Ada's artwork that needs to be put into a binder.  But the current hot project is the studio closet, a monster that I'm battling with for the next few days.   To make space to store materials that are just getting into the way, I decided I needed a set of shelves to fit into the space under the eves.  Why not drop everything and build them?  Uh, lots of reasons.  But it seemed like a great idea.  In execution, it is taking so much longer than I anticipated.  That, and I'm suffering under the pressure, literally.   Yesterday I gave myself a massive blood blister on my thumb while tightening the bit into the drill.  Cringe with me, please.  And then I stuck myself with a splinter--under my nail.  Yes, there is a reason that is a technique used in torture.   Still, yea Kirie! I sucked it up and put another leg onto shelf one.   Only two more shelves and 12 more legs to go....

I promise to post pictures when I'm done.   Assuming you care.  Please say you do...I have spent altogether too much time on this.   And too much time writing (and talking) about it.  If you made it this far, thanks for being so patient!

3.  In the midst of the half-way projects and hopping around for Easter, and several other writing projects I'll share with you later....I've been prepping and creating some items for an online shop I'm opening in less than a week.  I've been intending to open an Etsy shop for a year, and I have finally assembled almost all the pieces to do so.   The shop is going to be called Spangletree Studio, and I'll tell you more about it soon.   Suffice it to say that I feel like a Santa's elf, sewing and painting and bending wires and sanding little doors....it's going to be fun. I can't wait to tell you more about it next week!  I'm holding back just so as not to jinx myself... 

I miss my blog.  I also miss reading my bloggy-friends. I promise to get back to a regular posting and blog reading schedule starting after April 23.    

Domino Problem

I've got hangups. One of them involves doing things in order, and while at first blush that might sound orderly and wise, it's not. It's a problem.

Sometimes I get all wrapped up in the idea that tasks are like dominos, all lined up and waiting for me to get to them. If I don't do x, then I clearly can't do y. The silly thing is that all of the obstacles are really just in my head. Pure inventions of the procrastinator or perfectionist--take your pick. I spin my own wheels a lot trying to figure out which thing is best done first, and sometimes I avoid doing it altogether because I don't want to start an entirely new chain of tasks.

Now that I've put some of my dirty laundry out here on the blog, I'm going to go clean a closet in the studio. Because goodness knows I won't be able to make any paintings for the art show if the studio isn't clean, and I can't go to the studio unless the dishes are done, and I can't do the dishes unless I put away the girls' toys, and speaking of dirty laundry--I've got at least two loads to fold before I.....

SO. How much painting do you think I'll get to this afternoon? And if I have so much to do, then how do I have time to blog? Hmmmm.