The beauty and challenge of an ever-widening circle

One of the things that most enriches my life is the breadth and diversity of the communities of which I am privileged to be a part and the friendships I am privileged to enjoy. I love the fact that my life is such that I am constantly meeting new people, making new friends. I love the fact, too, that I still have friends in my life who have known me for many years. There are so many people who make my life infinitely better by their presence in it, whether they realise it or not: hopefully there are plenty who would say the same about my presence in theirs. It is, in large part, what has made Birmingham feel like home, although friends and family dispersed across the country remain important to me too. I have made no secret of this, and it is something that many a post here has celebrated. It remains true, and there is little I would change. 

But. There's always a but. So taking as read all the beautiful ways in which the many relationships I hold and am held by enrich my life, this post takes on that "but", which I have found myself wrestling with recently. 

With so many amazing different people in my life, so many relationships I deeply cherish, I feel like I am constantly juggling competing responsibilities, and at least recently, feeling like in many cases I am not quite getting it right. There are too many messages I have neglected to reply to for too long, too many conversations that have been squeezed and not given the time and energy they need or deserve, too many people I have failed to catch up or check in with as often as I would like, ... 

I know, of course, that not every relationship needs or expects the same level of commitment, and some are easier to maintain than others for a whole host of different reasons. I know that relationships shift and change over time, and that there are seasons in which different relationships, for different reasons, come to the fore. I know that when spending more time and energy with some people, it means doing less so with others is inevitable. I know that when you have as many people in your life as I do, a level of challenge as you hold them in balance is a price well worth paying. Knowing all that doesn't change my nagging sense that right now, things are not entirely as I would like them to be, and that there are too many people I feel like I have failed over recent months. 

No part of me wants to imply that these many relationships are costly in a negative way, or that I do not receive anything in return. They are not, and I very definitely do. But to make them work, and make them meaningful, relationships do demand something, do have a cost, from both / all sides. Acknowledging that relationships require effort isn't about implying they are a burden, on the contrary, it is an indication of their importance and value: most things that are worthwhile ask something of us. 

Relationships of all kinds need and deserve communication, time and energy: of all of which I, like everybody else, have finite, and variable, reserves. I am an extrovert. No-one who knows me could doubt how much I love, value and draw energy from time shared with others: but maintaining relationships is not, nor should it be, entirely effortless. 

Most of this sense that I am not quite getting things right is coming from within myself. And although it has been exacerbated by a few comments, some genuinely heartfelt, at least in the moment, others spoken in jest, I know these would not have effected me in the same way if they did not play into my existing internal narrative that somehow, currently, I am to a degree failing some of the people who really matter to me. 

The juggling analogy feels in many ways like an appropriate one. There is, or can be, a rhythm which allows you to maintain multiple balls in the air: when you are in the flow, it all just works (I've never personally actually got beyond three, but I gather it is possible to make it look effortless with many more). But the more balls you have, clearly, the greater the challenge of keeping them going. Even the most proficient jugglers need to put some, or all, of the balls down sometimes, just for a while, and to acknowledge that it is ok to do so. Even the most proficient jugglers drop balls sometimes, and probably shouldn't judge themselves too harshly for it.

Once you start to drop the odd ball here and there, you might be tempted to think that with fewer balls, everything will all seem a bit easier. On the contrary, I find, it sends you off balance and you can end up feeling at risk of dropping them all, especially when you bend down to try and scoop up the ones you've let go. And then there are the balls you don't drop, but only manage to catch by the tips of your fingers, reaching outwards or downwards to save them from crashing to the floor: the more often you have to do that, to break the regular flow to reach out and prevent a tumble, the more energy maintaining the whole thing costs. 

Right now I think some of my balls are very definitely scattered around me on the floor: hopefully they are sturdy enough that they haven't cracked too much on landing. Others I think I am keeping off the ground, but perhaps only just. I would quite like to get all my juggling balls back up and flying in a nice smooth rhythm where they can be caught effortlessly. I suspect, in reality, that never has been and never will be really possible. I suspect I will always be trying to balance competing demands on my time and my energy, trying to balance competing commitments to people and to tasks and to my own wellbeing. I continue to wholeheartedly believe it is well worth the effort!

I am very aware that how I am currently feeling is symptomatic of a wider sense of overwhelm. The fact that we haven't seen much sunshine for a while probably isn't helping either. I still think it is nonetheless a challenge worth reflecting on to ensure I am, in fact, giving the best of myself to all of those who matter to me, that I am doing what I can to ensure that I am sustaining relationships in ways that allow them to be the best they can be for myself and for others: because these many people do really, really matter to me and they are worth it.

Maybe I am writing this partly for anyone who might be reading this who feels I have neglected them, but not really. Primarily I am doing so simply to acknowledge and articulate how I am feeling; and to help me reflect on how I get back closer to where I aspire to be, or if that isn't realistic right now, to reflect on how I sit more comfortably with things as they are.