Skip to main content

Balance

At one time in my life, I embraced opportunities of all kinds as they came. I said "Yes" to all manner of offers to serve, socialize, or simply listen. Then came the pain. I found that being a Yes-man was self-destructive. I lacked boundaries, and began to suffer as a result. After recovering from a resulting physical sickness, I compensated for my mistakes by being firm and straightforward with others about whether or not I would be apart of something. Aside perhaps from family events, this meant that I chose to say "no" as often as I once said "yes."

I was proud of myself for it, for a time. Then, I began to realize that saying no too often could be just as harmful as saying yes too often. While saying yes too often meant being present to the point of exhaustion, saying no too often involved isolating oneself to the point of loneliness. Neither was healthy.

Both were examples of a fear I held. In both cases, I feared asserting my preferences with others. When I said yes, I chose to please others by agreeing to their needs or wants. When I said no, I chose to bypass altogether the conflict of having to choose between my own preferences and the preferences of others. By making "no" an automatic response, regardless of my actual desires, I had no need to recognize what I actually wanted because I had closed myself off to the opportunity. At least when I said yes automatically, I opened myself to opportunities in social or service gatherings to practice asserting myself, or to recognize my preferences in relation to others. When I said no, however, I denied myself the chance to experience anything.

I believe that a lack of balance is a sign that something else is wrong, something not easily recognizable, even to the person out of balance. I can testify that this was and is true for me. Just as certainly, though, a restoration of balance--in the form of recognizing and responding to one's needs and wants--is a sign of improved health. One's outward life is a reflection of what is happening within. It is one gauge for how well you are.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Heroes

Although we have several examples of heroes in our day, one of the best known is of a woman named Agnes Gonxhe Bojaxhiu (“Gonja Bojaju”), who devoted her life to sustaining the “poor, sick, orphaned, and dying.” Her venue was Calcutta, India, where she served as a teacher until she began to take notice of the poverty there. Seeking to do something about it, she began an organization that consisted of just thirteen members at its inception. Called the “Missionaries of Charity,” the organization would eventually burgeon into well over 5,000 members worldwide, running approximately 600 missions, schools and shelters in 120 countries; and caring for the orphaned, blind, aged, disabled, and poor. As her personal work expanded, she traveled to countries like Lebanon, where she rescued 37 children from a hospital by pressing for peace between Israel and Palestine; to Ethiopia, where she traveled to help the hungry; to Chernobyl, Russia, to assist victims of the nuclear meltdown there; and to ...
2 comments
Read more

The Nice Guy Fallacy

I read part of a poem recently by one of my favorite poets. It reads: I envy not in any moods The captive void of noble rage The linnet born within the cage That never knew the summer woods. I envy not the beast that takes His license in the field of time Unfetter'd by the sense of crime To whom a conscience never wakes. Nor what may call itself as bles't The heart that never plighted troth But stagnates in the weeds of sloth Nor any want-begotten rest. I hold it true, whate'er befall I feel it, when I sorrow most 'Tis better to have loved and lost Than never to have loved at all. At base, Tennyson contrasted a life of risk, and consequent pain, with one of security. He sides conclusively with the life of risk, and says he fails to envy those who have faced no hardship. I agree with him; and, for good or ill, his words are just as relevant today as they were in the nineteenth century. Like then, there are those today who choose to live their lives with as little risk as...
2 comments
Read more

Comparative Medical Care

One thing I'd like to understand is why there is such a difference between medical costs here and those in Haiti. At the time the book Mountains Beyond Mountains was written, in 2003, it often cost $15,000 to $20,000 annually to treat a patient with tuberculosis, while it cost one one-hundredth of that-- $150 to $200-- to treat a patient for the disease in Haiti. Even if the figures aren't completely accurate, the sheer difference would still be there. Indeed, the United States pays more per capita for medical care than any other country on Earth. My first guess for why the disparity exists is that there is a market willing and able to pay more for medical treatment, so suppliers see the demand and respond with higher prices. According to at least one doctor (go to http://scienceblogs.com/denialism/2009/05/what_is_the_cause_of_excess_co.php), part of the reason is administrative prices here. People here have a higher standard of living, and so the cost of care is shifted to ...
2 comments
Read more