Like Beating a Dead Horse

In my new profession, perhaps more than most, there is much discussion of "work-life balance." The rhetoric conjures, for me at least, the image of a balance scale, with work weighing down one tray and another tray for the "everything else" that apparently constitutes "life." This image worries me greatly. It is static. It makes me want to hold my breath so as not to upset some delicate constructive equilibrium. It doesn't look like much fun either -- this old fashioned balancing act. Isn't life (even "work/life") supposed to be fun? And yet, there is something to it, this notion of balance.

I have been searching for a metaphor to describe the whole balance idea a lot better than those old fashioned scales. And I think I finally came up with one a couple months ago. It's like riding a bicycle. I can imagine that the wheels might be the "work" and the "life" piles, if we have to bifurcate things in those terms. But the bike is no good without both of its wheels and one doesn't really move without the other. And if they aren't both moving, you're gonna fall over. And it's probably going to hurt. (As Mr. Sweenford will attest, I have tested this theory for myself -- at a stop sign at the corner of Lambert Street and Washington Avenue on my first long ride with clipless pedals. There was blood.)

Sometimes, you have to pedal like hell and the bike just barely inches up the hill. If you shift to the wrong gear, accidentally, on the way up, the pedals jam, the wheels stop, and you fall. (I have tested this one too -- on Mountain Road.) Other times, you just cruise along on dry, flat pavement and feel like you could turn that middle gear for hours. Occasionally, you get to fly down hill with no pedaling at all, but still a little apprehension that you might be going just a bit faster than is comfortable.

Riding a bike is a relatively easy skill -- a five-year-old can learn to do it (although mine hasn't). But learning to ride confidently only comes with an enormous amount of practice and more than a few scrapes and scratches. Learning to ride fast requires both courage and perseverance.

I got a new bike in August and have been slowly trying to master the art of riding it, maybe even daring to hope that one day I will ride it fast and confidently.

I got a new job and, in a way, a new life in September. I'm working on mastering that too. Just like riding a bicycle.

New Year, New Blog

It's been a long time since I posted anything on the internet other than the one-liners required for facebook and gchat status updates. As a blogger I admire a lot recently observed, there is something really satisfying about sending a little one-liner out into the world a few moments after you think of it. Sometimes, usually when I'm running, I come up with a whole series of status messages in my head. One line after another just comes to mind. After I'm done with my workout, I post the last one that stuck with me, and there it sits for a few hours or a few days. Other times, the status message is just a little inside joke. Occasionally, the status update is a very public declaration that is, in actuality, a hidden, private prayer that only one or two other folks will understand. I like the genre a lot.

But a blog is different. It's a chance to actually process some little part of the world. Cut it into little bits and stick them into the brain blender and see what comes out. I miss it a little -- the chance to write a few paragraphs rather than a few words. But I've grown apart from my old blog. I don't know if it's because I've grown up a little or because of my radical shift in routine or maybe just the writer's strike last year. In any case, the old blog just won't work for me any more and I need a new place to send my few paragraphs out into the world now and then.

I've been thinking about this new blog for a long time, trying to find just the right moniker -- a theme, a handle, a metaphor -- something that fits with where my brain is at in this new era of my life. I think I finally found it, but I'm having trouble explaining the six or seven different ways that "like riding a bicycle" seems like the perfect phrase to put at the top of the page. I'll save the explanation for the next post.

Like Fibby, I'm resolved to post here about once a week, maybe more often if the spirit moves me. I hope you'll come along for the ride.