Finding Harmony--Also on Substack
This Was Supposed to Be About Work-Life Balance and Ended Up Being Only Partly That
I’ll be honest—this Substack journey hasn’t been easy so far. It’s surely not for lack of words—in my “other life” as a writer, I can quite easily knock out 2,000 words without thinking about them too much (then again, there are also the days when only 20 give me a massive headache).
I am currently at an impasse (probably with myself): If I keep writing articles that go more in the direction of self-help, it all feels so terribly blah. And there’s enough blah out there, and I don’t particularly feel like adding to it. I also think the relational element is sorely lacking, and you simply can’t replace it with offering people comment sections and chats. If you truly need support with your mental health, you can’t get that from a blog or some online group. I know there are people out there who will disagree, but as a mental health professional, I have an opinion about it. Call me stubborn, but it is one of the few opinions that won’t change because I find some behaviours in the mental wellness industry (yes, I call it that on purpose) predatory and mostly aligned with the interests of coaches instead of their clients. There, I said it.
The part of my Substack that was more engaged with the topic of storytelling just fell away—if you didn’t catch it, you can read about it here:
However, this will not be indefinite, I just need to regroup. I am a storyteller. Telling stories has always been a big part of my life, be that as a writer, a performer or now as a therapist, where I often use narrative approaches with my clients.
So perhaps, I just feel a need to move away from well-meant advice that still smacks of platitudes to something that feels a bit more like me. And I’ve been on this journey since I started this Substack. It’s ongoing; you are part of it. You see my constant reassessments, my wondering what the heck I’m actually doing here. I honestly don’t want to have a “strategy” with this, despite being a very strategic person in all walks of life (a pattern-seeker and issue-spotter, hence my usually not hanging on to stuff that doesn’t work). I am trying to share meaningful things, but finding a way that connects is a bit like learning to walk—you fall flat on your arse a lot of the time.
I want this to be my voice, not the voice of the umpteenth coach who says the exact same thing “in their own words and with their own magic”. I always use my own words, and this post is particularly high in my unfiltered voice, as you will have noticed by now. But there is a saturation point for this type of stuff somewhere, and I feel we are approaching it (and yes, there will be people who disagree with that as well because “we’re all unique blah blah”). I am unique, just like you are. I always was and still am. But that doesn’t mean that my Substack adds any value to your life. So maybe I should primarily focus on it adding value to my own, and maybe that way, it will also add value to yours. And if it doesn’t, at least I can sleep well in the knowledge that I didn’t do something that didn’t feel like me just to rope you in.
In both my professional and private life, I am someone who seeks connection despite being a stereotypical introvert. The person who is more introverted than 90% of everyone else who takes some silly online test about where you are on the introversion/extraversion spectrum? Yeah, that’d be me, nice to meet you. And Substack has all those great features—comments, notes, chat. But getting people to connect on here is really, really difficult. I guess most people are just here to read. Do I want to use the notes function like social media? I don’t know—the reason I’m here is precisely that I got rid of most of my social media presence due to not wanting to add to the noise anymore. I don’t want to think about algorithms and censor myself for fear the Meta Overlords and their stupid AI might flag posts just for adding a metaphor that every 5-year-old understands, but the AI throws it back into my face for “inciting violence” (in case you were wondering: I was talking about a personal experience and finished it with “If I told you [more] I’d have to kill you.” Getting flagged for that simple play with words still affects ALL my Meta accounts (Instagram, my Facebook page and my private profile) now, almost two years later, and there is no way to get it removed from my account because you guessed it: No humans are involved at any stage of the appeal process. And no, I feel no need to use Meta products or rejoin the shit show that is Twitter. I’ll be damned if I ever call it X. But I digress).
I might reach quite a few people via my newsletter (hey, subscribers, I am so glad you are here and that the majority of you open my emails. In fact, nearly 80% of you do. I think that’s what some people would call “doing well” in terms of engagement). But I am also someone who appreciates discussion, someone who loves transformation (in myself and others) and hence doesn’t hold on to stuff that doesn’t add any value to anyone’s life. Someone who believes in connection, connectedness and meaning in things.
So maybe it’s time to move on from trying to do what is done with the best intentions but always, always feels generic to me, and just tell stories. And maybe these stories will mean something to you, or maybe they won’t.
And when I say stories, I don’t necessarily mean fiction (but who knows, maybe I’ll throw in the odd bit of that and some poetry, too. Time will tell). I just want to write about something that feels relatable, about shared humanity, instead of trying to help you solve your problems. Because if the problems you have are running quite deep, this is not the place to solve them. And if they don’t run that deep, you don’t need me anyway.
Should I apologise for having you witness the messy process of finding out what I want to do with this channel? My instinct is no, but please feel free to holler at me in the chat—I mean it…
So let’s get to what I had originallly set out to write but do things a bit differently. I’ll talk about me instead of talking about you. Sounds backwards? Give me a minute…
The question I had originally set out to write out about today, before this turned into a bit of a rant about my Substack confusion, was:
How do we maintain equilibrium between our art and personal well-being when the lines can often feel so blurry, as if there’s no separation between who we are as artists and humans?
But it’s apt, because it’s all related—to me anyway. So I’ll ask instead:
Does Work-Life Balance Even Exist?
I don’t know, does it? When I was in my 20s, I somehow thought it did, but the older I get, the more it seems like seeking for something very elusive and guilt-inducing. Meanwhile, I rather think there is a certain harmony to be found between seeing art as a professional pursuit and personal fulfilment. Are they strictly separable though?
To stay with musical analogies (applicable to writing as well): For me, it’s all about finding the right tempo—not too rushed, not too slow—to create a melody (the analogy-finder seems broken today, and we’re venturing into the writer’s equivalent of bad dad jokes) of productivity and joy. But for me, finding that rhythm always turned out uniquely complex. A complexity often rooted in the enmeshment of business and creativity, of doing something I need like the air I breathe while also making a living.
That line between work and leisure always felt very blurry for me—especially as a writer. And I don’t know about you, but while it’s possible to close the studio door at a particular time, many of use still end up (sometimes willingly, sometimes unwillingly) burning the midnight oil: The canvas beckons, commissions await, our manuscripts demand attention, our instrument stares at us. And we love what we do, right? But overcommitment can also dim the creative spark.
Hustle culture romanticises relentless work, but stress, burnout, and sleepless nights are really not the colours I want on my palette. And yet, they are always there, lurking in the background…
I’ve heard so many strategies over the years, and you get whole courses and coaching programs on it. But I think the truth is: Everything that reeks of “balancing something” in terms of percentages, or any other measure, is a formula. If that’s something that works for you, that’s great, but it never worked for me.
Maybe it’s rather about creating synergy?
My muse sings loudest at night. It is what it is. It’s not very compatible with the fact that everything in Western societies is geared towards early birds (don’t argue with me, it is ;)). So I learned to guard these hours fiercely for writing/creating, even if it somethimes means I end up sleep-deprived. That doesn’t mean this is something you should do, or that I even recommend it. But if we are talking about communicating with our own voices, if we are talking about honesty, it’s also time to say: Yes, sometimes we do stuff that isn’t “wholesome and perfectly aligned”.
My boundaries are a different matter. I respect them, but that doesn’t mean I tell other people what to do, and I think many people mix up the two:
“Don’t call or text me after 6pm”: Telling people what to do.
“My business hours are Monday to Friday, 10am to 6pm (in fact, these are my exact office hours), I will answer calls and text messages during these hours, please feel free to leave a message” (and then actually switching on that voicemail, and also not answering texts): Clearly communicating and respecting your own boundaries.
I need that time, both for my business and self-care. I don’t separate them out anymore. They happen when they happen, and I am fully aware that this is something only freelancers can do. But I am a freelancer, and being self-employed comes with so many drawbacks that I allow myself the luxury to reap its benefits, too.
If I see that a time slot the next day is still free, I block it off and take that time for myself, for whatever it is I need to recharge. I put so many extra hours in because I don’t mind doing it that I’ve long stopped feeling guilty about saying, “You know what? If they haven’t booked me by today, I don’t need to keep that timeslot open. In fact, I’ve set myself a deadline how long in advance I want my diary for in-person appointments to take shape, and then I start blocking time off. For myself, which also benefits the business.
I don’t provide emergency services, so the assumption I should hold slots open “just in case” has long lost its appeal to me. And I am able to do it because I’ve long stopped undervaluing my work, both in financial terms and when it comes to self-respect. Does that sound hard? I don’t know, you tell me. But you can’t pour from an empty cup, and I am only doing my best work, both creatively and with my clients, if I find a way to keep that well full of water. At least enough to dip the cup in anyway…
I totally get the dilemma of having to handle financial problems by the way. So I’m not saying this as someone who has never experienced them. But that problem didn’t solve itself by respecting my time less and undervaluing my work in hopes of getting a foot in the door. It was a long and often uncomfortable journey that I might share another time (I might also not, we’ll see ;)), but fact is: Nothing I say on here will solve that problem for you if you have it. There are people out there who can tell you about budgeting, emergency funds, diversifying and pricing, dealing with debt and finding grants. I am not one of them. I help creatives with their mental health and well-being (and if you need help with that—there is some blurb at the end of the post, and you can also chat to me in private).
Anyway, balance: Martha Ronson was right when she said that balance isn’t a tightrope but a dance. And dance is movement. What worked a decade ago might have stopped working, and that’s okay. What works for other people doesn’t have to work for you, and that’s also okay. Many (yes, many, not just some) things I tell clients don’t work for me, but they work for them because they are totally different people with totally different needs. And what works for me? I wouldn’t intuit it works for them until… yes, that relational element again.
I am not a lily-white unicorn who has all her shit together all the time just because she’s a therapist (you know, a lot of people who work in mental health feel immense pressure to sell that illusion, and I’m telling everyone here and now: It’s time to stop doing that). But more importantly: I’d so love to hear about you (this is where I stop telling my story) and genuinely connect with other artists (doesn’t matter what it is you do). I’d love to hear about the struggles and the triumphs. Because none of us are alone in this journey.
I am just bored with writing advice because I think a lot of it has been said before (yes, “but not with my voice”, I know I know), that’s all. Is that too honest? Maybe, but I guess I am at a stage in my life I feel fairly comfortable with that. And so should you regarding your own truth :)
Petra
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Thank you so much, Petra. This is so good. (Me? Certainly not a lily-white unicorn, either!)