I want to say something right up front: I can't stand the term work-life balance.
Not because the intention behind it is wrong. But because the language sets an impossible standard. Balance implies that work and life can be equally weighted, that there's some perfect midpoint where everything levels out and stays there. I joke with my audiences: is anyone's life actually balanced? The answer is always the same. No.
My life has never been balanced between work and life. There's always something pulling on one side or the other. Moment to moment, day to day, season to season. That's not failure. That's reality. And I think leaders deserve a more honest conversation about it.
What I believe instead is this: leadership is done with life. It's integrated with it. You can't separate the person who leads from the person who goes home, picks up kids from school, cares for aging parents, or sits with a spouse through a hard season. They are the same person. And that person deserves attention too.
In one of my leadership readiness cohort programs, a man made a commitment to leave work every day and pick up his daughter from school. It sounds simple. For him, it wasn't.
When we came back together for our next session, he stood up with pride on his face. He'd done it. Not every single day, but most days. He made it happen.
The room loved it. Because we were in a leadership program talking about school pickup. And it belonged there.
That's the work I care about. I develop the person who does the leading. And that person has a life that deserves attention.
Where the Gap Actually Lives
Before we ever talk about professional priorities in my programs, I take participants through an areas-of-life exercise. They consider their work, health, relationships, family, spirituality, and personal development, and they get to define what each of those areas means in their own lives.
First, they rank them according to what is most important. Then they rank them again according to how they actually spend their time. Sometimes those lists line up. Often they don't. Then I ask: which gaps bother you?
That's where we spend our time.
The gap isn't the same for everyone. But more often than not, work is competing with something else that matters deeply. And here's the honest truth: we have to work. We have bills to pay, kids to send to college, family vacations we want to take. These days, most things cost more than they used to. So work takes up a big portion of our waking hours, even for those of us who work from home.
The tension isn't a character flaw. It's the reality of a full life. What the exercise does is help people see where that tension is costing them something they actually care about, whether that's their health, their relationships, their family, or something else. It depends on the person and the season they're in.
The Pinky Swear
After participants sit with what the exercise reveals, I go around the room. What is one pinky swear you're going to make to do something about this before our next session?
And yes, we actually connect pinkies.
They laugh. But as people share their commitments, something else happens. They hear themselves in each other. Other people are dealing with mommy guilt, daddy guilt, grandparent guilt. Other people are working too much or giving their health less attention than they want to. They realize it isn't just them. And they get to cheer each other on.
That's when the sheepish smiles show up. And sometimes, right in the middle of making a commitment out loud, something shifts. That's congruence. The kind that only shows up when what you're doing lines up with what you actually value.
When we meet again, we return to those commitments. Most people made progress. Some did exactly what they set out to do. Others started but didn't get as far as they hoped. A few didn't make it happen at all.
That's when I remind them: what looks like failure is usually just information. What happened? What does that tell you? What will you do differently? They connected pinkies with me, but the commitment was always to themselves.
I Do This Too
I've done this exercise on myself more times than I can count. And my lists shift depending on the season.
A few years ago, my daughter-in-law's mother was diagnosed with cancer. I pulled back everything I could from my business while still keeping the doors open, and stepped in to care for my young grandson. Work moved to a lower burner. Family moved to the front. That was the right call for that season.
Right now, my husband is slowing down. As his capacity changes, my responsibility at home increases. So the exercise looks different for me today than it did five years ago.
What I've learned is that there can only be a couple of areas of life that are the true priority at any given time. Maybe three. Any more than that and you've just made everything important, which puts enormous pressure on you and ultimately serves nothing well.
The question isn't how do I balance it all. The question is: where does my energy need to go right now, and what can I maintain on a lower flame while I give that area the attention it needs?
Twenty-Two People for Thanksgiving
I cook Thanksgiving dinner on a six-burner range. And I've learned the hard way that you can have all six burners going, but everything cannot be on the front burner. Everything cannot be on high.
I know this because I tried it once with twenty-two people coming for dinner. It did not go well. Things burned. The meal suffered. And I learned a lesson I've never forgotten.
Our priorities work the same way. Sometimes I intentionally move something to the back burner. I keep a low flame underneath it, check on it, and give it what it needs while something else gets more attention. That's not neglect. That's judgment.
Putting something on the back burner doesn't mean it stopped mattering. It means you're deciding what needs more attention during this season and what you can maintain with less. The trouble comes when we call everything a priority and never decide what we're willing to protect.
You may be reading this thinking, I know what matters to me. Work just keeps getting the best of my time. I'm glad you know what matters. But do you know what making progress in that area would actually look like? And within the time and circumstances you can influence, what's one thing you could do?
Maybe your day is full of meetings you don't control. There may still be a small opportunity somewhere. You might ask someone how they make room for something you've been struggling to prioritize. You might have a conversation at home about sharing a responsibility so you have a little more breathing room.
We don't have to figure everything out alone. But we do have to choose.
Your Next Clear Move
Choose one gap between what matters to you and where your attention actually goes that bothers you. Name one action that would represent progress. Make it specific enough that you'll know whether you did it. Decide when you'll do it and what you need to protect to make it possible.
What happened? What worked? What will you do differently?
Make a pinky swear if you'd like. Find someone who will cheer you on.
That man who committed to school pickup had days when he couldn't make it happen. He also had many days when he did. Those days mattered to him. And they mattered to his daughter, whether she knew it or not.
Your leadership happens within your life. Give yourself permission to pay attention to both.
