Playing hide and seek with my balance

I recently celebrated my best friend’s 25th birthday, and then my sister’s 21st birthday just one week later. I spent the first half of the week that separated the birthdays recovering from the first party, and last Wednesday I travelled back to my family home for the second one. I am now on my way back to London.

Tomorrow, I start a new job as a series development researcher for the BBC. I am incredibly excited about it; I will have the opportunity to learn about series development within one of the most highly regarded broadcasting channels in global history; I will get to work in the news room that is the backdrop of pivotal moments of history as presented by Huw Edwards and Reeta Chakrabarti; I will be earning some money again after draining my reserves down to minus figures, and I can finally bring an end to the painstaking, time-consuming, deeply demoralising job search. The job is a three month initial commitment, which suits me perfectly. Perhaps I will move on to something else at the end of June, having tried out another new role in another new industry, or perhaps I'll stay on. Either option feels exciting. For the time being, this feels like the perfect opportunity for me and I wouldn’t change a thing about it. And yet, having spent the last 6 weeks doing what I want, when I want, I can’t help but feel a little bit reluctant to return to full time work.

Sometimes I let my healthy habits slide. At times like Christmas and Big Birthday Bonanzas like the ones I’m currently emerging from, I might not do much exercise, I get up later than I would like, I let my daily practices of writing and reflecting fall by the wayside, and all of the discipline that I usually maintain dissolves into a sluggish ambivalence. The dissent feels good, like a roly-poly down a grassy bank of beer and TV and sugary treats. However, sooner or later you arrive at the bottom of the hill and have to haul yourself back up it again, and herein lies the challenge. Going for a five minute run is harder than a fifty minute run if you’re out of the habit of running. Waking up at 8am can feel like one of the hardest things you’ve ever done after a period of late nights and lie-ins, even though last year you were getting up at 6am every day without thinking twice about it. It makes sense that it would take more grit, determination and discipline to (re)introduce habits that you haven’t practised for a while. Even still, every time I let myself slide down the grassy bank of easy decisions I learn this lesson all over again.

I am a strong believer in the power of balance; that everything is acceptable within the relatively flexible bounds of moderation. Having been out of work for the last few weeks, I have been successful in maintaining some of the structure that helps me to keep a healthy body and mind, until around 1 week ago. I am now arriving back in London, tempted to eat the chocolate my mum sent me back with, already thinking of cancelling the yoga practice I had planned for when I get back, and longing to close my laptop and turn my attention to something less effortful, or ideally just to turn it off. Thankfully, I’m not panicking - I have done enough roly-polies to know how they work. I know that I’ll make my way back up the hill, steadily, and that I’ll get fitter as I go. I’m reassuring myself that a balanced plate of food and an early night is enough for now, and that I don’t need to jump straight back into the rhythms that a previous, more impressive version of myself used to keep. If I put steps in the right direction, at some point I’ll take stock and realise that I’ve gained good ground and my self-restraint won’t feel quite so restrained. Sometimes it’s necessary to lose your balance so that you can find it again. I am extremely grateful to have been able to celebrate so wholeheartedly with two of the most important people in my life, and although I might miss the freedom of constant days off (read unemployment), it’s time to dust myself down and set off back up the hill.