​There are many metaphors that are used to differentiate people with negative viewpoints from those with a more positive outlook.  My suggestion is to consider life as a piece of fabric that we have been creating over the years.   When we hold it up there will be certain areas that have had a lot of our attention, where the threads are strong evidencing hard work and creative energy.  In other areas there will be holes where things have yet to be achieved or completed, or perhaps earlier efforts which have unraveled a little.  If you were to do this now would you be concentrating on the fabric or the holes?
 
Taking the analogy further, where there are too many holes it may not be possible to see any patterns running through the fabric.  In fact the holes may come to represent the only noticeable pattern.  If we take a close-up view of any large object it is not always easy to see its qualities and it may be that it takes years for the pattern and purpose to become apparent.
 
Imagine hanging the fabric on a washing line. Where there are plenty of holes the breeze will pass through without creating any disturbance or stress.  Where there are very few it will billow like a sail as it catches the wind and tries to contain it, harnessing the energy while possibly straining the threads.   Where there are fewer much larger holes they can funnel the power of nature intensifying its impact as it passes through.
 
Taking a linear view of this process, we create a continuous tapestry that becomes a personalised account of our lives and those around us.  From this perspective perhaps it would not be possible to revisit our earlier work to improve it.   Instead we are able to use the lessons learned from looking back to impact upon our present work as we move ever forward. 
 
A more holistic view may mean the boundaries of the piece are in place from the outset, though it may take us a long time to appreciate where each of these edges lies.  We work our way across the fabric sometimes staying to concentrate our efforts on specific areas then move more swiftly making broader changes as we go.  We leave a trail between more heavily worked areas with our path crossing itself as we move with varying degrees of purpose across our landscape.  For some people there will be an even spread across the piece while others will have large clear spaces punctuated by intensely worked patches of detailed and complex designs.
 
It may be that we are able to return to earlier work so that it can be unpicked and reworked in different designs with stronger or more diverse threads.  Others may choose to start afresh in another location using former efforts as a jumping off point for deeper or wider explorations.
 
We can survey the territory to either side, look over our shoulder and to the farthest horizon.  As we move across the piece the view may change to reflect the development of our ideas or remain a constant reinforcing the values inherent in our position.
 
Reworking achievements over and over may improve their appearance, increase their relevance, or bury the created original obscured beneath new threads.  These reworked constructs can create the effect of a relief map further emphasizing the highs as well as overshadowing the lows.
 
Like all creative endeavours it can be finished but is never completed.  Each piece can stand alone framed within its contemporary context or be considered as part of a complex whole, like a piece in a massive jigsaw spread within and across time.
 
It has been my experience that people from supportive backgrounds early on develop a tendency to see the fabric and not the holes.  Those whose lives have been particularly secure may not even notice the holes, or at least diminish their importance, and leave it to others to deal with any shortfalls these might represent.  For those who prefer not to focus on details there can be a risk if they rely upon others to do this for them.
 
Like many who grew up being reminded constantly of the gaps, it has taken me a while to begin to appreciate more what has been achieved over what was missed or remains to be achieved.  To appreciate the uniqueness of the personal contribution resulting from our reflection upon our own path does not require us to make comparisons or to set the content against the gaps.
 
While it may sometimes be important to map our progress against future milestones, it is not always useful to set a value on what is by framing it alongside what is not.  Focussing on achievements rather than failures or absences can become a keystone of our self-belief.  
 
There needs to be fabric for there to be holes.  Things we do will frequently have a more significant impact than things we omit to do, and regrets always seem more focused on our failure to act than on any mistakes we have made.
 
Whether looking for a foundation upon which to build or developing a route map with navigation points to support your progress it is, I believe, more important to consider the fabric and not the holes.
 
© 2016 Michael Golding
 

It has become commonplace to refer to a work/life balance as something we should all be aspiring to.   Responsibility for any failure to experience sustained happiness is often blamed on our inability to achieve this, with insufficient boundaries set around our work cited as the main culprit.   Depending upon the profession, responsibility for any imbalance will be laid at the door of the employer, particularly when they can be represented as faceless and uncaring such as a corporate giant or government agency.  
 
In professions with a higher degree of autonomy the individual may have to take the blame.  The term workaholic is used freely to describe anyone who spends abnormally long periods at work, or worse still, who continues to be preoccupied with their work even when they are away from it.
 
While this idea may have begun as useful shorthand it has become a crude expression of a more complex process and by polarizing two key aspects of our lives risks simplifying an experience which deserves more careful consideration.
 
Growing demands on employees has meant that, for some people, their home lives are less satisfying than they, or their families, wish them to be.  Although there seems to be a growing expectation of having less stressful employment and an increasing, and more satisfying, leisure time, resolving this is not simply about reducing the impact of work on our lives. 
 
For many people in salaried employment it might seem possible to split life into two parts.  However calling one work and the other life, is to explicitly create a hierarchy with work not being regarded as a component of life, but something separate from it.  This also says something about the way we might value ourselves and our roles in each of these arenas.
 
Significant numbers of people are in a position where they feel they have to accept whatever employment terms are offered, often combining part-time and full-time jobs to create enough income to support them and their families.  These are not usually the people who complain about lack of balance as they are more concerned with earning enough to get through the month.
 
For people able to exercise more choice, many are drawn to roles that require a degree of commitment that extends beyond what would be regarded as typical working hours.  They are not concerned about imbalance, though their friends and family may use this phrase.  I believe that people seek out these jobs because of the defining nature of the professional identity they confer and that this combines with their personal identity to create and maintain a positive self-image.  Only when the investment fails to bring in the returns, either in the present or when past efforts do not produce expected rewards, will they call foul.
 
Implicit in this description of balance is an assumption that we should be applying equal resource to all areas of our lives.   If this were the case, how then do we accommodate the different demands that are inherent in each situation?  Trainees in many professions are expected to dedicate significant amounts of time and energy to reach a necessary standard to practice safely and effectively.  The return on this investment may not be realised until much later in their careers through financial rewards, professional status and satisfaction.  
 
The same longer term strategy may be thought to apply to other aspects of our lives, such as the sacrifices often described as being necessary to create and support a family.  This too could be regarded as an investment whose benefits will only be realised over time.  Where that promise is not fulfilled there can be a sense of a lack of fairness, particularly if the expected benefits are being enjoyed by someone else.
 
Perhaps balance is a measure of how much resource, energy and effort we put in set against the time, money or other benefits received.  We expect there to be a balance between what we put in and what we get out, whether at the time or later, and where this transaction is not satisfying it might be that we feel let down.   Is the feeling of imbalance a reflection on the disappointment of the later returns – that we did not get as much as we hoped, it was not as good as we expected or did not have the effect or impact that was desired? 
 
Setting known investment against unknown, though expected, rewards must surely be a gamble with faith in our own judgment or the promises of others determining the odds.  It would seem to me that trading present time for future rewards becomes an increasingly risky investment, particularly as we get older. 
 
For me achieving balance is not about evaluating time spent doing one thing set against time doing something else.  It is not an investment of the present against future rewards.  It is not based upon comparisons.
 
There are occasions when we are required to give our all, without the promise of any future return.  In these situations the value of our efforts can only be measured in the present.
 
What if we adopted this approach to all that we do so that rather than trying to balance one experience against another we were to focus on the intrinsic value of what we are doing at any one time irrespective of any possible future benefits?
 
While there will always be unpleasant tasks that we might wish to reward ourselves for once they are completed,  this does not mean splitting our existence into good and bad, enjoyable and unenjoyable.  To approach life as we would a bank, putting effort in now so that we can possibly draw upon it in the future, is to lose sight of the value of the moment. 
 
Separating work from the rest of our life is also to deny the pleasures and value to be found in each and to fail to recognise their interdependence.  By compartmentalising our lives in this way we risk separating out other equally important aspects so that our experience becomes one of detached elements rather than a contiguous whole.
 
Balance is not an end point, and cannot be pursued as a goal in itself.  There is not one moment which once established can be applied to our ever changing circumstances.  Balance is giving the entire situation the specific resources it requires and deserves and will need to be negotiated again and again.  There is a rhythm inherent in every situation and this natural balance will emerge if we allow it to.
 
To achieve equilibrium requires an acceptance of the imbalance that comes from the many swinging pendulums that constantly shift across multiple axis throughout our lives and the lives of those around us.
 
By being aware of the need to be actively balancing all aspect of our lives within the moment, we can try to achieve the natural equilibrium that is inherent in every situation.
 
​© 2016 Michael Golding

​All babies need to be protected and supported by others as they explore the world around them.   From the moment we are born there is a tension between our need for protection as vulnerable creatures relying on others for food and warmth and a pressing need to learn about our immediate environment.   The scale of this exploration increases as our senses become able to reach further and to process more complex information.  As our understanding of our immediate environment grows, so our world expands.
 
Much of our initial learning is based on the apparently passive receipt of information as we sit in our cots and high chairs, and our interactions with the faces that come into our narrow orbit, though the facial expressions that accompany this constant learning give evidence of the creative effort taking place. This processing of information is further echoed in our many micro movements as we sleep.  From the safety of our crib we reach out to learn more about our world and to explore those particular areas that interest us.
 
This is supplemented by what we see through car windows or from push-chairs or prams as we are taken further afield.  As our strength and skills continue to develop we are able to explore further and in more depth.  Our increasing mobility, through crawling then walking, allows self-directed investigations of our environment.  As our language skills develop, through talking then reading and writing, we are able to target our learning to help us construct a more complete narrative model of the world around us and how it works. 
 
Throughout this period of growth and learning we remain dependent on others for food and warmth and, ideally, also receive emotional support through the care, compassion and love of those closest to us. During our formal education we continue to add to our knowledge of the wider world while exploring our inner world through our relationships.  With further education, or additional training, we continue to grow our skills while refining our understanding and appreciation of our own experiences and those of the people around us. 
 
From this established place of comfort we are able to move into areas of activity and learning where we can risk making mistakes and tolerate the experience of failure before achieving success.
 
Theoretically there would seem to be no limit to our continuing growth and development, but for many of us the process seems to stop either during our school years or very soon afterwards.
 
As with any process of exploration it is important to have a base camp from which to embark on our journeys of discovery and to which we can return to take time to reflect on what we have learned.   As children this base camp would seem to be the family home, usually created by others, from which we receive both sustenance and emotional support.  As adults we create our own homes and, perhaps to a lesser extent, shape the environment in which we work.   Ideally both contribute to our sense of well-being and support us in being able to move beyond what makes us feel most comfortable.
 
I believe that physical and emotional safety is essential if we are to develop a sufficiently strong personal identity so that we can risk going beyond our everyday experiences.  I wonder if the resources that we are able to invest in journeying outside of our comfort zone are proportionate to the solidity of our fortress homes and the strength of the ties that connect us to them.
 
For many people this feeling of safety is linked with places such as family homes and established institutions, and the quality of the relationships with the people that inhabit them, while others carry their sense of security within them without needing to anchor it in any single location.
 
However, for too many children their physical or emotional needs are not met as there is a lack of direct emotional support and no physical safety in their immediate environment.  Where there is no growing sense of security, it is extremely hard for us to establish a solid foundation upon which we can build a successful personal narrative.  Without this firm sense of a positive personal identity we may be unable to risk leaving our citadel and instead must use all of our energies in continually shoring up our fragile defences.  This can also happen when our sense of security is severely undermined such as with the death, or betrayal, of a parent or partner or some other person who has become pivotal in our lives.
 
The scale of this zone of comfort varies for us all.  While initially transferring from the womb to the crib it can continue to grow room by room until it includes the house, then the garden, gradually expanding through the neighbourhood to encompass school and shops and parks.  This literal and metaphorical zone can increase to include colleges, workplaces and other institutions to become a general comfort within a culture or society.
 
The agoraphobic’s fear of what lies beyond their door is shared, albeit to a lesser degree, by very many of us while there are some people who seem comfortable in every setting.  Perhaps the more we are supported, and the earlier this begins, the further from our home base we are able to travel.
 
If we have not been able to develop a solid sense of self then it is unlikely that we will have a well-established comfort zone.  Without a secure comfort zone we are unlikely to be able to risk moving into a learning zone.
 
For those without a trusted set of core beliefs the original process can be recreated through more recent positive personal experiences and knowledge to establish an affirming baseline narrative that also reflects real life experience.   Without this baseline any additional learning can be difficult to achieve and even if this can be overcome we risk having to play catch-up with those who have experienced a far more linear development of their systems for comfort and support.
 
© 2016 Michael Golding

For thousands of years philosophers and religious scholars around the world have been outlining principles for living well, along with guidance for how this might be achieved.  Each evolutionary step in the production and distribution of the written word has encouraged successive waves of wisdom to flow.  In the last hundred years this has become a torrential outpouring of educational and self-help material apparently focused on increasing our understanding of contemporary living and, in very many cases, explaining in detail how it can be mastered.

A common approach has been to represent modern life as a game and to provide a broad definition of the landscape with detailed descriptions of the rules of engagement.  Some descriptions are specific to certain cultural environments, while others seek to transpose values from one culture to another.  Qualifications and specific qualities needed for success are described in such a way as to seem just about attainable.  

Both the rules and how to succeed are presented as a given, reflecting the originator’s confidence in their particular viewpoint.  The problem for the reader is which playbook to choose.  In many ways the landscape has significantly changed through the years which suggests that what enabled people to be successful a hundred years ago might not necessarily bring the same results today.  There would seem to be core rules and then situation specific guidance, with certain themes running across all settings.

As important as the rules are the definitions of success, how success is measured and what the rewards will be.  Success seems to have been consistently defined either in terms of achieving a particular standard of material worth or arriving at a form of spiritual contentment.  For some these are interdependent, one is not possible without the other, other people choose to focus their efforts on one element believing that the other will follow.  Many of us keep switching our attention, risking missing both targets.

The rules and the subsequent prizes are not arbitrary.  They have been developed over time to reward those qualities believed by many to be necessary strengths.  This hierarchy of skills and abilities is not based upon any universal standard, but would seem to have been agreed by those with power based on their cultural values.  They reflect, as well as confirm, the existing social and political hierarchies.

Those who feel excluded may see this as a conspiracy, while those who are on the inside regard any attempt by outsiders to challenge what they believe to be their deserved privilege as a sign of envy and a threat to their supremacy.

If we are unable to develop these qualities or achieve those qualifications, can we still choose our position or must we accept the one that is offered to us?

However pervasive a system or structure may appear to be, it is not inevitable.  It has been put in place by people and kept in place by other groups of people.  The details of the game are not fixed even though there may be some come core principles about power and influence which seem to have applied in many settings throughout history.

It is also important to note that just because our skills seem to fit does not make it the right game for us to play.  Many people walk a path that seems to fit only to discover later that precious needs were not being met and have started to whither.  If something comes easily then it might be a reason to continue but there must be other measures to confirm besides the amount of effort required.

I believe that there are two important steps in the journey we take to find where we fit.  For me there is a need for a fundamental set of beliefs that form the reference point for all of the decisions and choices that we make.  It feels like these can apply across cultures and through time.  We must then focus upon matching our needs with those of the environment in which we find ourselves, while staying connected to the root system of our beliefs.

I see the role of early education to encourage us to develop these core beliefs and then to learn the fundamental skills to be able to engage effectively with our environment and the people around us.  Later education encourages the development of specialist skills, or perhaps a wider breadth of less specific knowledge, which allow us to flourish.

When skills are learned that are not grounded in a positive personal value system we risk developing a talent to respond superficially to our experiences without fully engaging with the world around us.  Driven either by our own perceived needs or our perception of what is required, the disconnection may not become apparent for some time.  It will be evidenced by an ongoing dissatisfaction, which may be hidden by evidence of temporary success.

Matching our needs with our environment, including the people around us, is perhaps the main prerequisite for a successful life however it is measured.  This requires us to be able to identify and understand what is needed and then to have the ability and assurance to match one with the other.

I believe that we need to develop, and continue to evolve, a set of core principles which are tailored to fit not handed down through the generations by academics, politicians or prophets.   We then need to fully appreciate what is important to us.  As we look beyond ourselves we must try to understand what those around us need and how best we can respond.  This begins with those living close by and extends through and beyond our own culture to include all others. The better the fit between these two worlds, the more successful, and content, we will be.   Finally, we need to regularly sense-check these conclusions to ensure that they continue to meet our collective needs.

It is not for us to shape ourselves to the structure but rather to identify a structure that is a comfortable fit and if we cannot find one that is good enough then it might be necessary to build our own.

© 2015 Michael Golding

Whenever we interact with others, how we feel at the time will colour the experience and affect the outcome.  The stronger the emotions are the more significant their role will be and the greater their impact.

The feelings may be part of the reason for the action or may be anticipating the outcome.  Wherever the balance may lie, they will be an integral and influential part of the whole experience.  Nothing we do is devoid of emotions.  If they are not obvious then we need to look a little harder.  If they are easy to see, it may be useful to look beyond the surface to appreciate the real emotional drivers for any situation.

From infancy we have been developing our ability to recognise the emotions of others that echo through their words and actions.  Initially we may have needed these skills for our survival. This reduces as we become less dependent on others, yet continues to be an important source of social and cultural information throughout our lives.  We cannot help but feel the emotions behind the words and deeds of others. While it is easy to be distracted by the written word, watching and listening can give us all of the information we need. 

Professional actors have learned to inhabit a constructed world where they can feign emotions that convince us for the time we share with them.  Politicians must maintain their roles and over time a supposed requirement for presenting an externally acquired message irrespective of personal feelings has for many become a permanent part of their visible persona.  Much of the frustration we feel with those in authority results from a poor connection between their words and their emotions.

Real life relationships are required to last longer and do not come with props and music to help direct the mood.  We have all experienced people who believe they are successfully masking their real feelings by using a learned language of empathy.  At the time they may even be convinced their feelings are genuine.  We experience this as hollow, or at best confusing. The lack of congruence between their words and emotions will be communicated to us in a myriad of tiny ways that are sensed even when not completely understood. 

Parents or teachers who talk or act against their true feelings will leave children feeling something is wrong and possibly drawing unhelpful conclusions about the cause.  The same is true for any leader who disagrees with, or is ambivalent about, what they are asking others to do. This creates confusion in their troops, or staff, affecting morale and commitment that puts the task and possibly the wider project at risk. 

Public sector professionals required to pass on a message they are personally at odds with will not be able to convince or reassure their clients, patients or customers.  Only the finest actor can successfully espouse a conviction they do not genuinely feel.  There a very few of those, professional or otherwise, and even they can only maintain the illusion for as long as we allow.  The rest of us who try this will be experienced as liars, or at the very least lacking authenticity, undermining both our personal authority and the credibility of the message we are trying to communicate.

Any activity involves us in a sequence of decisions, some with more intention than others, as we measure out the different forms of personal effort and resources we believe are needed to accomplish the task.  It is all too easy to overlook the emotional content.

Consider preparing a meal for someone you do not like. Even if you do not deliberately spoil the experience, it is likely you will do no more than the bare minimum that is required.  Compare this with creating a meal for someone you love.  Whatever your abilities in the kitchen, you will do all you can to make the experience the best it can be.  I can imagine coming to the table in each of these situations and having a very different experience.

Words or actions with positive intent driven by negative emotion will only have limited success.  If we are fearful or uncertain before we begin it will be reflected in our words and actions.  We may be tentative when a firmer touch is needed, or fail to convince those whose contribution is also needed.   Our commitment may waver causing us to abandon a project before completion or not attend sufficiently to all of the details so that present or future failure is built in.  We can be sabotaged by our own emotional ambivalence as underlying conflicts undermine our concentration or commitment without even coming into awareness.

I wonder how it would be if before we act we were to reflect upon the emotional content of what we are about to do or say so that we can confirm that it is what we want it to be.  If we cannot be sure what lies behind our actions, then we might consider holding back until we are.  If there is a need to act then perhaps it is important to try to identify a positive emotion to drive the actions so as not to undermine the value of what we are doing.

If we are not able to act with love, compassion or kindness – maybe it would be better not to act at all.

© 2015 Michael Golding