If your life were a circus act, what would it be? The ringmaster taming a lion? Knife throwing? Or maybe you sometimes want to trill, “send in the clowns!”
Mine would probably be the act where a woman walks across a tightrope while juggling flaming skittles. It is the perfect metaphor for the challenge of maintaining enough equilibrium among all the different moving parts to keep everything operational (work, health, relationships, etc.) while also staying on top of multiple responsibilities that compete for my time, energy and attention.
Recently a friend shared with me a theory regarding balance (specifically, in this case, between writing books and raising children) attributed to the bestselling author Nora Roberts. She said: “the key to juggling is to know that some of the balls you have in the air are made of plastic & some are made of glass”.1 This idea rang so true to me that I have been mulling it over ever since.
Of course, the power of the analogy lies in the contrast between it being blindingly obvious and simply expressed, and how rarely many of us manage to live by its wisdom. We know that some tasks/events/people are more important to us than others, yet all too often we behave as if everything is top priority. We treat our to-do list as a sacred text to be followed to the letter and can get just as stressed about a major presentation at work as the need to get a haircut before our cousin’s surprise birthday party. Indeed, it is often the lower-stakes items that trip us up the most, as – in some kind of cruel optical illusion created by stress and overwhelm – the more we have to juggle, the more we magnify the importance of tiny insignificant detail items. Christmas and wedding planning are both perfect storms for this phenomenon.
So, while the simple realisation that some of my juggling balls are made of glass and some plastic feels empowering to the point of being a game-changer, it also begs two huge and thorny questions.
1. Which balls are plastic and which are glass?
and
2. How do I distinguish between the two when it all feels so important?
Obviously, when you start examining everything you are juggling through the lens of this metaphor, it is immediately very clear that certain balls are very much made of plastic, perhaps even sponge. In a calm, reflective moment, it is easy to see that providing homemade dessert when friends come to lunch is a ball that can be dropped without any danger. Similarly, attending an interesting “lunch and learn” at work can probably be demoted on your to-do list without any fallout whatsoever.
The difficulty arises when you’re in the thick of things, trying to make at-the-coalface decisions on what to do next without the benefit of the wisdom and perspective you feel in the early morning quiet before the phone beeps/kids wake up/meetings begin.
True colours
One way to create a hierarchy of importance that has helped many of my clients is keeping a colour-coded to-do list (sometimes literally). Often we make such lists in a state of greater detachment and ease than when we are actually tackling them, so that is a helpful time to assess each item and its colour code. For example: on today’s work to-do list I have two red items that are my top priorities and three orange items that I will be pleased to get through but that can wait if necessary.
The same can be done with the mental task list we often carry with us: I had been planning to make my children’s favourite meal this evening, but I’m not 100% sure I have the time I need as there are some work deadlines to meet today. So, it all might get done, but equally I might need to drop a ball somewhere in there. Feeding my children is definitely a glass ball that cannot be dropped. Ensuring that I make the exact meal I planned: definitely plastic.
The rules of triage
When Doctors House, Carter and Grey are deciding whom to treat first at the site of the multiple-casualty disaster with which TV writers like to conclude a season, they follow established guidelines for medical triage. We see them assessing patients’ injuries, taking their vitals, deciding who can and cannot be helped then calling for oxygen for everyone, STAT!
When sifting through your own competing priorities, you can take a similar approach. Ask yourself first whether anything on the list can be done and ticked off in less than two minutes. If the answer is yes, take 10 minutes to whip through a few of those items. The result will be an instant feeling of greater calm and control that makes it all seem more manageable. Then, ask yourself if there’s anything that has a firm deadline, and if so, which one looms largest. Tackle that. Next, are there any items that, if left undone, will stop someone else moving forward with their part of a project?
Know your values
Everyone’s rules for triage will be different, of course. The hardest part is assessing the relative importance of, say, a work event, and something that is objectively less crucial but that has emotional impact, like attending your friend’s pre-Christmas drinks party. It helps to have a very clear idea of your over-arching priorities and values when making these calls. Acquiring that kind of personal insight takes some time and energy but can really cut through the mental pollution around so many choices and vastly reduce decision fatigue. In my recently published e-book, Time for What Matters, I offer a step-by-step approach to help you manage your time and energy to prioritise what really matters to you. Finding a calm moment to go through the exercises and gain greater clarity can make a huge difference to how you handle the days when the tightrope feels highest and the juggling balls most numerous and uniformly fragile.
Consider the consequences
The benefits of triage systems notwithstanding, let’s return to the central thesis of Nora Roberts’s comment: that certain juggling balls must be kept safely in the air for the sake of our health, wellbeing, security, happiness, etc., while other balls can absolutely be allowed to come plunging to the ground with little or no impact. This takes the idea of ranking the importance of things a step further and gives us permission simply to cross stuff off our list. It allows us to say: yes, I could do this, but that doesn’t mean I have to. We can take a step back and make this kind of choice by first asking: what would happen if I dropped this ball?
The initial answer to that question often reveals the fears that keep us on the to-do list hamster wheel.
If I don’t read every word of every preparatory document for tomorrow’s meeting, I’ll be asked a question I can’t answer, get found out for the imposter that I am, be reprimanded and ridiculed, and I’ll LOSE MY JOB!
If I don’t help out on a stall at the school Christmas market, I’ll be judged and shamed by the teachers and other parents for my lack of involvement, I’ll feel guilty every time I pick up the kids, I’ll become withdrawn and unable to chat at the school gates so ultimately WE’LL HAVE TO MOVE HOUSE AND SCHOOL DISTRICTS!
When you take a breath and answer the question a second time, in most cases, the answer is far less catastrophic. Reading the executive summary of the documents will almost certainly be more than sufficient (a quick straw poll will probably reveal that’s all anyone else ever does anyway), and saying “I will have to get back to you on that question” is perfectly acceptable. You might even realise that rescheduling the meeting is a possibility. Opting out of the school volunteer roster this year might not make you popular with a couple of the power parents but everyone else will get that we’re all busy and doing our best. In fact, they might even feel relieved to see someone honestly admitting they just don’t have the bandwidth, giving them permission to do the same. Even more likely: people will notice your absence briefly then move on, too busy thinking about their own juggling balls to judge you for long!
I don’t know anyone who doesn’t feel overwhelmed by their own life at times. Remembering that not everything we are managing is of equal importance offers a much-needed dollop of perspective. With that in mind, next time your to-do list gets too much, ask this one simple question: what will (realistically) be the consequences if I put this one ball down? You might find nothing breaks.
1 Shared on X by Jennifer Lynn Barnes on 23 Jan, 2020.
Does this resonate with you? Do you find it hard to prioritise all the competing demands on your time and ensure that your precious energy gets spent on the things that matter most? Enlisting the support of a dynamic, empathetic and encouraging coach with over a decade of experience can help you find perspective and reconnect with your own priorities. Contact me to find out more about working together.
