I got this text recently: “Juggling is amazing.”
This was after I had asked a family member for a favour that I should have known couldn’t work.
“Oops, never mind. Sorry, juggling too many things at once.” I texted, realizing quickly and saving them having to re-explain their schedule.
Juggling is amazing
Ahem, not to overstate the point, but I juggled – literally – as a camp counselor, which now feels both adorable and otherworldly. The mental juggle we all practice regularly, though, is even more impressive.
Juggling commitments, schedules, priorities, values, relationships, goals, projects, deliverables, thoughts, beliefs, feelings, etc., is hard. Managing the volume of things nipping for our attention is one of the core challenges of contemporary grownup life. And growing older often leads to more juggling.
The shift from professional-with-no-dependents to professional-who-is-also-a-parent is a great example that deserves way more space in the cultural conversation. Most humans making that shift need to massively uplevel their planning, organizational, relational, and leadership skills. Consistently we rise to that occasion. We excel at juggling – and juggling is amazing!
Juggling is exhausting
Sustaining the juggle is also exhausting.
In coaching sessions, once we’ve established what we’re working on, I often say something like this:
“OK now let’s get some of this on the table. It’s going to be messy at first, but we’ll organize as we go.”
One by one, the balls people are juggling can drop.
And there are so many. The looping thoughts and priorities crowding each other in that chaotic juggle can finally be still and be seen – and often they are surprising, unrelated, even contradictory.
It’s complicated up there in our juggling minds.
Imagine a clear mind
Imagine a mind that is not easily rattled. Imagine a nervous system so regulated that calm clarity is the dominant mental experience.
Not reaching for the phone for a quick dopamine hit.
Not I’ll never get there, that dream is not for me.
Not the terror / delusion loop that-all-or-nothing thinking exacerbates.
Invitation to pause
Whatever season is upon you, you may choose to pause the juggle. Even a brief pause returns benefits. Try this:
Step 1: Find two minutes where you can pause everything (five is even better, but we’re starting small). Start your timer 🙂
Step 2: Imagine all the balls that you are juggling dropping on to the table in front of you. They are safe there – they’re not falling and smashing (hey, unless that visual feels good to you:)); more like gently touching down for a brief pause.
Step 3: Take a breath. Focus on being alive. Notice your heartbeat. Notice your gut. Notice that blood is pumping through your body and breath is filling your lungs and your skin is responding to the temperature around you. Let the muscles in your neck and shoulders relax. Pause and keep those balls down until the timer goes off.
Step 4: When the timer goes off, you’ve got options. You can reset it to extend this moment. Or you can choose to end the exercise. You can imagine gathering up everything you’ve been juggling and resume the same juggle as before. Or you can choose to intentionally grab a few things – three is more than enough – that will be granted space in the next part of the juggle.
Juggling is amazing and so is taking a break from juggling; so is putting down some of the things for a moment or a while. I would love to hear how this practice goes for you. You can let me know here.
I’m cheering you on.
Interested in coaching? Stand On Your Head is expanding – in addition to strong roots in career coaching, we now offer transition coaching and grief coaching. If now is your time for investing in support, book a call with me and let’s chat.