I've been noticing recently what it takes for me to actively
appreciate things in my life, and I thought I'd share it with
you.
Heartfelt Appreciation
Let me start by posing a question: how much do you appreciate
modern plumbing? If your key reference point is Granddad telling
you about outdoor school lavatories in the 1940s then your sense of
appreciation will probably be largely abstract. If, instead, you
remember a holiday you once took in the Greek islands, where the
toilet waste pipe was too narrow to cope with both
effluvia and loo paper, so that an open waste paper basket
was provided to hold the latter, once used, then your appreciation
may be more lively and personal.
But to truly value hot flowing water and full flushes, shoot off
right now for a few nights under canvas on the most remote banks of
Lake Waikaremoana. After a week of plumbing entirely au
naturel, perhaps enlivened by a DoC officer arriving
unexpectedly by launch to give your DIY-short-drop marks out of
ten, you will return to the comparative civilisation of the
campsite by the main road and close the cubicle door in the
draughty wash block. And then - bliss beyond bliss - you will
sit…
Frumps And Frocks
Of course, there are parallels with work. For weeks, you're head
down in the office, all the time wearing suits or other formal
clothes. You're sure that if you could get a day in jeans and a
sweater you'd be at least 10% more productive, just by feeling more
comfortable and relaxed - and you're almost certainly right. The
pleasure of doing something different, almost a treat, would put
you in a better frame of mind.
When you get to wear jeans every day, though, the effect does
wear off. With launching Professionelle, I've had a chunk of time
out of the office. Not only have I found jeans no guarantee of
productivity, I now actively look forward to a reason to dress up
nicely and go into the city! The Liontamer ladies we interviewed
around the time I wrote this piece were the same - enjoying the
change from slightly frumpy to smart frocks on the days they had
face-to-face meetings.
Light And Shade
What I'm realising is probably pretty obvious. Without contrast,
it's hard to value a better state of existence. Cicero put his
finger on it: hunger is the best seasoning. In the same vein, the
best part of a day-long tramp (for me) is the hot bath afterwards.
And the worst day at work, when everyone's losing it, is a breeze
compared to a wet Wednesday at home with two cranky children under
three. To grasp that, of course, I had to endure the rain and the
crankiness!
Logically, where this leads is that you can have too much of a
good thing. Imagine your life included non-stop holidays, excellent
health, regular Lotto wins and a lifetime's free supply of
top-notch chocolate. How long till the apparent dream-come-true
became merely mundane? No wonder the rich and famous seem to be
forever doing stupid things, their psyches must be desperate for
contrast.
You Can Never Have Too Much...
There's only one good thing I reckon I could never have too much
of and that's… balance. It doesn't have to be a balance between the
good and the bad, or happy and sad, either. In fact I'd rather it
wasn't! The sort I want is between different spheres of my life,
and different parts of who I am. I want work-life balance,
family-own time balance, frump-frocks balance, long days-short days
balance.
And when I can't achieve those kinds of balance, I settle for
their poor relation: lack of routine. It's one of the very best
things about the consultant's lifestyle. Diamonds one day, diapers
the next. But, on balance, I'd rather have balance!
© Professionelle Ltd 2007