Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about balance, my clients have been talking about it an awful lot too.
Not because I’ve found it, but because I’ve realized it’s a fool’s errand trying to live it at this point in my life.
I’m a father of two kids under two years old. I’m a husband. I own a business. I’m a son, a brother, a son-in-law, a friend, and somewhere underneath all of those roles, I’m also supposed to be an individual with interests, goals, and some semblance of a personal life.
For a long time, I believed balance was something I could achieve if I just worked hard enough. Easier said than done, as organization has never been a strength of mine, but the goal remained.
Maybe I needed a better calendar.
Maybe I needed to wake up earlier.
Maybe I needed a more efficient routine.
Maybe I just wasn’t disciplined enough, not trying hard enough, not prioritizing well enough.
But the longer I‘ve lived in this season of life, the more I‘ve realized that balance isn’t elusive because I’m doing something wrong. It’s elusive because some seasons of life simply aren’t balanced, and aren’t meant to be either.
When you have two young children, there are needs that don’t care about your plans.
The toddler doesn’t care that I had a difficult day at work.
The baby doesn’t care that I was hoping to get to them gym at the end of the day.
The business doesn’t care that nobody slept the night before.
The responsibilities keep showing up whether you’re rested or not.
Some days I leave work feeling like I should have given more to my family. Other days I’m with my family and feel stressed and overwhelmed about everything waiting for me at the office. Then there are the parents I should call more often, the friends I haven’t seen in months, the projects around the house that never seem to get finished, and the version of myself that used to have hobbies. Those sure were the days…
The strange thing is that even when life is full of things we deeply value, it can still feel like we’re constantly falling short.
I think many men like myself quietly carry this burden.
We tell ourselves that if we’re overwhelmed, it means we’re failing to manage our responsibilities.
If we’re tired, we’re not working hard enough.
If we’re struggling, we need to push through.
But what if the goal isn’t balance?
What if the goal is acceptance?
Acceptance isn’t giving up.
It’s acknowledging reality.
Right now, my life is not equally divided among all the things that matter to me. Some relationships get more attention than others. Some priorities have to wait. Some parts of my identity are temporarily sitting on the bench while other responsibilities demand to be on the field.
Sometimes I don’t like that reality.
Sometimes I still wish I had more time for myself.
Sometimes I wish I could be more available to the people I care about.
Sometimes I wish I could show up at 100% in every area of life.
But wishing doesn’t change the math of life.
There are only so many hours in a day.
One of the hardest lessons I’ve learned is that every “yes” carries a hidden “no.”
When I spend Saturday morning with my kids, I’m saying no to work.
When I spend extra time growing the business, I’m saying no to friends and hobbies.
When I prioritize sleep, well….that’s just not possible at this moment with a 3 month old.
The tension isn’t a sign that something is broken. It’s often a sign that life is asking us to make difficult choices.
The older I get, the less interested I am in finding perfect balance and the more interested I am in being intentional with the imbalance.
Because the truth is that this season won’t last forever.
My kids won’t always be this young. They only have one “non-walking” summer. They only have so many bedtimes with Dad. Time is truly, truly more precious than I’ve ever realized.
There will come a day when the house is quieter than I want it to be.
There will be opportunities to revisit neglected hobbies, spend more time with friends, and reclaim bits and pieces of myself that feel distant right now.
For today, though, I’m learning to stop measuring my life against an impossible standard.
Balance sounds nice.
But maybe a meaningful life isn’t balanced.
Maybe it’s full.
Maybe it’s messy.
Maybe it’s choosing what matters most today while accepting that something else will have to wait until tomorrow.
And maybe that’s not failure.
Maybe that’s the cost of doing this business called life.
After all, no one ever says, “I wish I would have worked more” on their deathbed.
