The facilitator for the once monthly support group for Parkinson's caregivers spoke about an article she read a while back. She couldn't recall who wrote it but she brought it up when one of the spouses broached the subject about how best she can prioritize her day-to-day schedule as a caregiver to her husband. The article was about, "what if life were a juggling act". Unfortunately, there was little discussion done on it and the group moved on to other subjects. Soon the hour was over as was the exercise designed for those with Parkinson's in the next room.
At home later, after a quick online search, I found the article: "Work-Life Balance: Juggling Glass and Rubber Balls", By Anna Baluch (Updated on September 25, 2019). She wrote about a speech made by Bryan Dyson, former CEO of Coca Cola, at a commencement ceremony at Georgia Tech in September 2019.
The speaker closed by explaining what is now popularly known as "The Five Balls of Life".
Mr. Dyson's message ran as follows: "Imagine life as a game in which you are juggling some five balls in the air. You name them—work, family, health, friends, and spirit—and you're keeping all of these in the air. You will soon understand that work is a rubber ball. If you drop it, it will bounce back. But the other four balls—family, health, friends, and spirit—are made of glass. If you drop one of these, they will be irrevocably scuffed, marked, nicked, damaged, or even shattered. They will never be the same. You must understand that and strive for balance in your life.”
Mr. Dyson was speaking to new graduates. The message was profoundly appropriate for those about to face an entirely different kind of world as they "commence" life after college in the real world.
It should still resonate with everyone in the midst of their career or growing the business they started, if not more so. It is or should be a critical consideration actually. That drink or two after work with co-employees for the sake of camaraderie or sociability that has now become almost a daily occurrence must be quickly identified as a rubber ball. One must drop that ball once it gets in the way of juggling the (other) glass balls. The obvious health hazard of a DUI, not counting the long term effects on the liver, the inevitable shattering of marital bliss by the last proverbial straw brought on by the now once too often episode of coming home to a cold dinner that is still on the table that was painstakingly prepared by a spouse now too tired to even start an argument is one of the harsh realities of an unwillingness to drop the rubber ball, erringly construed as work related or required. Mr. Dyson who himself reached the pinnacle of the corporate dream made it clear that work (and all work related) is a rubber ball.
But what about those of us of a certain age when work (employment) is now a memory; retirement, hopefully, is blissful and affordably comfortable for body and mind? Well, not really, of course, because retirement cannot be dis-associated from living. Nevertheless, let's just say we enjoy it and certainly more preferable to the daily grind of waking up to the alarm clock each workday morning, the commute to and from that one place we refer to as the compulsory place of home away from home. Okay, so now let's just say we're at a place where morning coffee can be made to linger for the better part if not entirely all of the morning. Let's say that.
Alas, we find we are still juggling balls in the air. Yes, because juggling balls in the air is pretty much a permanent chore we have not completely gotten rid of even at a time when the accrued interest for the price of living longer is coming due every time we are reminded that growing old is a prerequisite to long life in this world . A world that is getting more complex even for those of a certain age, perhaps even more so. Oh, yes indeed, it still is. Like everything else, juggling is easier for some, more challenging for others if not nearly devolving into an exhausting predicament. Not just physically but emotionally for those who live alone. And when not alone, juggling must be compulsory when giving care to a companion - a loved one. That is what the lady in the paragraph was alluding to when she broached the subject that made the facilitator mention the article.
We find juggling different things now; those of us of a certain age, I must add. There are good ways. There are wrong ways of going about it too. The lady caregiver who brought the subject up has every reason to be stressed out. You see, from my own personal experience, the male caregiver will have a much easier time adapting to doing the groceries and cooking and household chores than for a wife caregiver to do what used to be do-it-yourself chores of home and vehicle maintenance, and so many things well within the purview allowed for and relegated to the male culture. I am not saying this to sound sexist but simply to just say that traditionally male roles are less adaptable with women. Take cooking, for example. While at home cooking is the domain of the wife we know that chefs at restaurants are predominantly males (a mystifying but undefinable phenomenon). The same is true for dishwashing if one must observe behind the scenes of most restaurants - 80% of the dishwashers are men; so, why should that be so beneath us retired husbands when it comes to helping out in that department? Doing a grocery run is about buying stuff. Men are just as proficient at buying and shopping. So, it is not a big leap for the husband but clearly not a given with the wife knowing what's wrong with the car or fixing a simple faucet leak or knowing what an Allen wrench is. Okay, I'll stop with that because I think I have successfully presented a balanced argument so as to preclude any obligatory apology later on.
I personally feel that the transition to caregiving role has not been that terribly difficult for me. It began with a sincere realization on my part that for the decades past from the first day to this day of our married life my wife had made many sacrifices of her own, too lengthy to detail each one here but taking care of the children and quitting her job when she was most needed at home while making the household budget fit with my ability to earn in the early years of our lives in a new country and culture, and keeping the house neat and clean every day were no small feats to have accrued for her a lifetime of one irrevocable credit balance on the big accounting book. Her sacrifices counted more than I can ever match despite the challenges associated with doing (only) some of what she used to do. And where many she is able to do she still insists on doing them.
Upon retirement I followed the sage advice to take up a hobby. It was not difficult because I already had one all along so all I did was pick it up from the level it was while I was still working except with a little more drive and enthusiasm later. But when all is said and done it merely replaced going to work but less restrictively or compellingly so. Woodworking is an easy rubber ball to drop while caring for my wife as she deals with the burden of Parkinson's is a precious glass ball never to be dropped. I picked up swimming a few years before retirement for health and fitness. These days it is to stay fit for the two of us because more than just as a personal goal, it is so I can be there - able to take care of her as well as myself. But my swimming is not a precious glass ball because it can be dropped from time to time in consideration of my wife's condition. Swimming, therefore, is one tempered glass ball that can be dropped without breaking.
Most people, retired or still employed, can juggle more than five balls in the air, but they may find that the diminishing returns the extra balls may bring are not worth it. I think Mr. Dyson hit on just the right number of five balls. Readers of this blog, you be the judge, but what is really important is recognizing which balls to drop, which precious ones to keep in the air at all times.
Always remember, with no reservations or doubt that when called for, We Can Drop The Rubber Balls!
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