Moving trucks, three kids, and a dog – oh my!
There’s an analogy that I love from the former CEO of Coca-Cola, Bryan Dyson’s commencement speech he delivered to the graduating class of Georgia Tech in 1991. In it, he describes the “Five Balls of Life” where family, friends, health, and spirit are the glass balls and work is the rubber ball. He goes on to say, "Imagine life as a game in which you are juggling some five balls 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.”
It’s that precise balance that I’ve been striving towards for most of my adult life. But when you’re a high performing athlete, executive, parent or a person fueled by the false ideals of perfectionism, all the balls feel like glass balls to you. As I maneuver through this new era of showing up as the person I am called to be, I’m finding that it’s the most commonplace activities that test my ability to decipher which balls can be dropped in achieving harmony and balance in my life. Like moving.
In the last 18 months, my family and I have moved four times. Yep. Four. First, from Salt Lake City to Milwaukee, then to LA, and finally to Orlando where we are now. Like most of us know and have experienced, packing and unpacking a house can be overwhelming, even on a good day. But doing it with three kids, a husband, and a dog can feel impossible to do once, let alone four times in less than two years. I also come from a family that didn’t move — ever. My parents bought our house when I was one and they didn’t move until I was 34! So, now at 37, and balancing a family of my own, I’ve had to very quickly become an expert in all things moving related. There’s an endless list of things to think of, which, to my overthinking brain, means there’s just as many things to forget about or miss. The recovering perfectionist in me cringes just typing that sentence out.
With my husband, Joe, being a professional basketball player in the NBA, I’ve had to tackle the logistics of each of these moves mostly on my own. And sometimes, in an instant, without the necessary time required to aptly plan. One of the hardest parts about Joe’s job is that trades can happen at any time, which, by now, we’re no stranger to. However, the first two moves were certainly not planned on our end, but we did our best with the hand we were dealt and tried to make each transition as smooth as possible for our children. Reality is, our kids have been in three different schools in the last 14 months, which has been incredibly difficult for them and me, to be honest. I worry almost non-stop about all my kids and certainly, my son, Jacob, who has Autism Spectrum Disorder. But what I’ve learned is that kids are endlessly resilient. They can handle a lot more than adults think they can, and if you incorporate them into the process in age-appropriate ways, they’ll probably surprise you.
There will, inevitably, be moments of chaos and tears, only made worse by a lack of sleep. But what surprised me is that I found that the kids, especially the twins, struggled with many of the same things we did, like saying goodbye to friends, teachers, our favorite neighborhood, and of course, stability. Comfort zones are hard to leave for a reason. They’re familiar and easy. But as I challenge myself to face life’s challenges honestly and transparently, I invite my children to do the same. So, to make the moves easier on them, we involved them in decision-making processes, especially for things around their personal spaces or what they wanted to travel with them during the move. We threw big going away parties and made memory books together, with pictures of special moments and friends. I made sure to have everything unpacked before the kids got to the new house so that it immediately felt like home and just a little less scary, unknown, and new. And lastly, we gave them the space to feel their feelings in full.
Big transitions can bring up a lot of big emotions – for adults, too! – and that’s okay.
In trying to support my children, they’ve helped me to process my own feelings, reminding me to check in with myself more often. In many ways, moving reminds me of how I felt after I retired from netball. Stepping into new environments, with fresh people, and new challenges is daunting. But it also forced me to trust myself and my instincts. When I chose to switch teams in 2011, I felt like I had stopped growing and learning. I had become complacent in my own life and I knew that I wasn’t going to evolve if I stayed, no matter how comfortable it would be. Uprooting your entire life may seem crazy to outsiders, but sometimes it’s exactly the kickstart your mind, body, and spirit need to realign in your purpose.
Joe and I have had a lot of hard conversations this last year. When you have kids, especially if they have special or extra needs, thinking about the bigger picture is crucial for the success of things, like moves and your sanity. It’s so easy to get bogged down in the stress of the logistics, lists, and planning that you lose sight of what really matters. I know firsthand how survival mode can cloud your vision for the future, making it impossible to see or think clearly about anything you encounter.
We’ve had to constantly remind ourselves that when it comes to knowing which balls we can drop, the unrealistic expectations we project onto ourselves are always the best choice.
When you do your best to plan ahead, slow down, and listen to your body and what it’s trying to tell you. You’ll probably see that so many of the pressures and expectations we feel are self-created. If there are boxes that are still unopened in your garage (talking to myself with this one!) — who cares? I’m learning to let go of the guilt that comes with being a perfectionist. I’m learning that home is wherever Joe and I are with our kids. Home is playing cards together, or singing in the car, or Friday night pizza nights around the kitchen table. You’re allowed to go at your own pace and you’re absolutely allowed to make mistakes. Your family is one of your most important glass balls. There’s no job, meeting, or move that will ever come before them. So, those unopened boxes in the garage? They can wait.
There’s always tomorrow.