A Date With Myself

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.