And quite unexpectedly I found myself alone, peaceful, in a
place buzzing with strangers, chatting over food and drinks, while I look at
the busy noisy street outside, and no particular thoughts running through my
mind.
It was Friday evening. My task list of the week – of both
personal and professional responsibilities – had more than usual tick marks.
And thus we decided to take a break. Weekend breaks are becoming a cultural
norm in this age of fast paced and high pressure careers. But this was a slight
extension of this break by a few hours.
After exchanging multiple messages, location co-ordinates
and online reviews, my husband and I finalized on a joint which had been on our
wish list for some time now. He picked up our daughter on his way. I logged out
of my office and reached our destination. And then it happened. It happens so
often that it is neither unexpected nor surprising. They got stuck in a traffic
jam.
And thus I found myself, silently waiting, alone, in a place
full of noisy and vibrant people. Walking on the thin line of work-life
balance, I for sure value these moments of peace.
With no immediate worry on my mind, I find myself without
any particular thoughts to occupy me with. Hence my focus moved to myself – the only
inescapable thing in front of me.
I feel the concept of a working mother is not very new. Not
at least in this part of the world. They worked long hours in agricultural
fields, supported hand-loom and other cottage industries and were also part of
many family owned businesses. Even the household work till not long ago
involved tedious and tiring manual effort. And all this was done when the
primary responsibility of raising kids rested on their shoulders. The trend
continues to be quite common till date.
Yet I wonder if they ever faced the dilemma of work-life
balance. I wonder if their individuality as a ‘woman’ was ever threatened by
being a mother, wife and home-maker. I wonder if they ever had to run-away from
all these to get some ‘me-time’.
I am not the timid tender woman who is scared to venture out
alone without a protective shield of a male guardian. Nor am I the bearer of
liberation flag, demanding a ‘me’ time in her daily / weekly schedules. I am a
normal ‘madhyam-maargi’, for the lack of a better word. I like to divide my
time between work and home. They both complete me. And for any ‘my need’, ‘my
want’, ‘my space’ kind of things, I need an assurance that the other two are
well taken care of.
I don’t deny that maybe the problem is with me. Maybe I can’t
compartmentalize myself. I am as much a part of my work as my family is a part
of me. My family is as much a part of my vocation as is my blog. All these were
my choices. These were my conscious, well-evaluated decisions. I wanted them
all then as much as I need them now.
When I learn communication skills at work, I apply them at
home. When I manage conflicting emotions at home, my conflict resolution at
work improves. When I pen down my thoughts through this platform, my thinking
gets more structured. The ‘me’ in me doesn’t change with location and
environment.
I have often discussed this with my friends and colleagues.
Once a very senior colleague told me, “Even at home my focus is on finding
solutions. When at dinner table my kids shout what they don’t want to eat, I
encourage them to think what they all can eat. I do the same for my team as
well.” As another example, I know of people who plan team-trips. Their passion
for travel has resulted in strong team connect and team bonding. From sharing
investment advice to exchanging notes on kids’ education, from career
counselling to relationship management, break-out zones in offices transcend a
wide array of topics.
Maybe I sound in contradiction with theories which
propagate the need of cutting off and switching off. However I believe, when
separated by distance of time and physical space, we may only stop pursuing
certain tasks. But then my work, my home and my passion is not limited to a task-list. I carry with me a part of my home to work and a part of work, wherever I go.
The ‘me’ time for me is an illusion. Something I don’t run after. And the above
examples make me believe that I am not alone in this.
Yet, I value this solitude. I value these minutes spent in
my own company. I don’t expect a sudden revelation in this half hour. These minutes
are unlikely to result in a eureka-moment. They will pass as quietly as they
came. And they will remain as much a part of my life as any other.
