“There is no such thing as work-life balance. Everything worth fighting for unbalances your life.” —Alain de Botton I find the quote attributed to Alain de Botton to be both intriguing and disturbing. I am certain that anybody who reads this editorial (both of you) struggles with the same issue of balance that I do. At times, I too feel like de Botton in that, to do something worthwhile requires a 100% effort. How, then, to feel that we can give 100% in everything that we do? Are there enough hours in the day? The lack of balance in our lives is typically most evident in seeking the inevitable “work-life” balance. Whether one works in academia or private practice, there is always something to do that threatens our personal/family/home time. I know a few practicing interventionalists who seem to be able to compartmentalize the various aspects of their lives, but those individuals are few and far between. There always seems to be something to do, something to accomplish away from what we should expect to be normal work hours. And in the era of electronic communication, it is far too easy to log on to our work e-mail accounts on the weekends and weeknights to decompress the inevitable onslaught of e-mail exchanges on Monday morning. Without a doubt, finding that balance between work and personal life becomes our own personal struggle. Each individual situation is different: Work environment, family support, and personal motivation all contribute to set the tone of our own personal struggle with this important life balance. And although I understand de Botton's point, I must admit that I struggle mightily against the idea that balance is an inaccessible goal. Perhaps it's just more difficult for a physician to accept the concept of the inevitability of the lack of life balance than it is for a Swiss writer (don't worry—I had to look him up, too). It probably is telling that I've been working on editing this Seminars issue all weekend. I have been in e-mail contact with Dan Brown and Bill Rilling about their contributions—and sadly they both responded on a Sunday in short order. There is one other issue I come up against with regard to balance. Let me preface this concept with the statement that I love, truly love, my job as an academic interventionalist. While discussing careers with trainees, I continually come back to the idea that as an academic, I get to be a clinical doctor one day, a researcher the next, and a teacher the following day. I enjoy that diversity more than anything, but it can also lead to a feeling of inadequacy in one or more aspects of this career. Not infrequently I look around our field, or even around my own laboratory, and realize I have some catching up to do with clinical skills, or writing that next paper, or better delivering my vast stores of knowledge to the next generation (frightening to all of us, I'm sure). Add into that mix the inevitable administrative duties and increasingly onerous communication chains, and trying to achieve that appropriate balance in one's professional life seems nearly impossible. Academic so-called triple threats are few and far between these days, for good reason. Who can really do it all? I suppose that this holy grail of balance will likely always seem to be just out of arm's reach, and that continual striving for this level of balance might be the reward in and of itself. I'm choosing to look at it that way: It's more healthy for me and my family, it's less negative, and I need to finish this editorial so I can get going on my other work.
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