Seek Harmony Over Balance, Otherwise — CRASH!
Your life only has a certain number of Jenga blocks; don’t stack too high.
I started this year enamored with the things everyone here was writing about: self-improvement, mental health, productivity, and love. Everything made so much sense. If I start with a small habit and practice it every day, it would accumulate into something epically magnificent.
People were talking about Tim Ferriss’s 4-hour body and 4-hour workweek. They explained Pareto’s Principle of getting 80% of your results from 20% of your work. They said I would be filthy rich using a daily 1.01% life-improving daily interest.
And then I found James Clear. That guy made SO much sense to me! Atomically-small life choices would create nuclear results. I was mesmerized: I bought a Kindle and a hardback copy of his book, along with two copies of his journal (one for me and one for a Christmas gift).
I started developing my systems, creating my identities, and stacking my habits. I had so many habits stacked (27 to be exact) that I needed to create extra space in the official James Clear journal pages. My habits felt worthy: learn Spanish, practice guitar, face a fear, do a kind act, read, journal, meditate, etc.
Pulling Blocks Out to Go Higher
The funny thing about stacking habits is that it doesn’t talk about limits. The Pareto Principle math doesn’t add up when you try to turn the 20% into multiples of itself. Our life is like a Jenga tower. It can go higher but don’t try to take from the supporting 20% holding up the other 80%.
Sometimes you need to leave things alone. Don’t try to fix them. Don’t try to tweak them or hack them. Some things are doing a perfect job supporting your life, even though they look like they are off-balance and wobbly. Sometimes being wobbly is the most effective strategy.
I found this out the hard way. Did I mention my infatuation with James Clear? Somewhere near my 26th or 27th stacked habit, I got an email about Clear starting a new podcast. He opened up a position to the public, and I applied. I added another habit to the stack. I pulled from the bottom of the Jenga tower.
To impress James, I sent him a series of emails showing how I applied the system of habit stacking. Every day, for 40 days, I sent him an email of why I was a great candidate for his new position. And do you know what? I was a finalist for the job. James Clear said to me in an email, “I am reaching out to you with good news. I am excited to inform you that you’ve made it through the first cut of candidates.”
Cool, right?
The Jenga tower crashed. Lesson learned: you can’t improve everything. I’ve got a lot of stories to tell here, but the gist of it is this: I took on too much, including relationships with my now-wife, my kids, friends, and parents, as well as trying to improve my health, job, and hobbies. I ended up calling a crisis line; police showed up and cuffed me; they admitted me to a mental hospital. The Jenga tower crashed.
Productivity is an Insatiable Beast
I don’t know the science behind our never-ending quest to be more productive, but we have to stop peddling its wares. We’ve opened the cages and let the monster loose. It’s like the blood-thirsty plant begging Seymour for more and more and more.
I should have known; I should have seen the signs. Scrolling through Clear’s blog, I found his annual report. Do you know what I found? That he doesn’t work out every day. He doesn’t always get the right amount of sleep. He doesn’t always write, or research, or invest, or cook. He’s — gasp! — human.
Our other heroes have stepped off their pedestals, too. They’ve either died, are suffering ill health, or are taking a break. For example, this month’s most popular article about Tim Ferriss is how he’s no longer living the Tim Ferriss lifestyle.
Harmony Over Balance
I read somewhere that we should seek out harmony over balance. This makes sense to me. This idea allows the word compassion versus criticism. Instead of being angry and disappointed with the wobbly parts of our life, trying to pull them out and improve them, we accept them for what they are and the roles they play. It may look crooked and imperfect, but in reality, it’s our primary support.
Instead of being disjointed in a stack of variable habits, why not accept the structure as a whole? Are we not beautiful mechanisms functioning in an interconnected world? Why do we have to label and compare?
Harmony implies pieces working with one another. Balance means organizing and planning disparate elements. Harmony, a natural thing; balance, something we try to control.
Stacking Jenga pieces, like productivity seeking, is at its core a simple game. The taller the tower, the more precarious the structure. I think there’s a beauty in merely letting the tower sit in its original fat and bulky form. Sure, it may be fun to pull a block or two, but going too far is a risky endeavor.
Ryan DeJonghe is the owner of YourEnergyHealers.Org, an online collaborative of Reiki energy healers offering services over video. He also likes to write stuff people enjoy reading. You never know what he’ll say next.
Connect with Ryan on Twitter at https://twitter.com/LifeisPresence.