A Question of Balance

Several months ago, my son's pitching coach assigned him an interesting daily drill. He was instructed to roll up a thick towel, and then balance on it with ball of one foot, while lifting the other bent leg up perpendicular to the body. You know, that classic Karate Kid position. This is intended to help him learn balance, and build leg strength, in order to stabilize his motion while winding up and throwing the ball. I tried it and failed. Tried and failed again. Tried and failed again.

Without balance, a pitcher's throw will go wide, high, low, outside -- anywhere but over the plate. Just the slightest change of angle while throwing, due to loss of balance, creates an unacceptable outcome.

Can you see where this little metaphorical analogy is going? I've always felt balance was crucial to the life of a creative person, as well. That is, if you want to stay fresh and keep the "idea bank" in your brain filled with new experiences and learning from which to draw, balance is key. But it's tough to do that when you regularly work nights and weekends. I know from experience.

To that end, a recent discussion I had with my daughter who works at Crispin in Boulder, was quite relevant. She said her boss call the interactive creative group together and said he would prefer that they didn't work weekends and late nights to the extent they had been because it didn't necessarily make them more productive. She was thrilled with the news because she felt she (and others) would be fresher, more alert and more capable of producing quality work. They would have time to re-charge their batteries, in other words. She's willing to work hard, as most sharp creatives are, but relentlessly long hours can be quite detrimental.

Balance is beautiful. Asian philosophy has promoted the concept for centuries.

I believe top-notch work can be done by working hard, and focusing with laser-like intensity, during an 8-10 hour day...and then enjoying an evening and weekend improving talents, learning, serving good causes, and, most importantly, enjoying your family. In short, that towel drill definitely applies to life.

How Not To Do Hawaii

The business trip began with a six and a half hour stamina test on a germ-filled jet with less than ample legroom. I arrived in Honolulu, having added four hours to my day, and immediately hit H-1 traffic as fierce as I find in rush hour on I-15. That shouldn't be the case in laid-back Hawaii, should it?

Upon arriving on the North Shore, I checked into what is lovingly referred to as The Roach Motel. No explanation needed. I then spent the next eight hours, until four in the morning Utah time, reviewing the client's new night show -- in order to write knowledgeably about it for upcoming ads. Long day.

The following day was spent in meetings, in a well-chilled conference room without windows. I then departed for my red-eye flight home, losing four hours of sleep in the process. It's not the way to see Hawaii. Nevertheless, there are far worse places to have a client. (For example, I once had a client in Parowan, Utah -- 180 degrees from Waikiki.) On the road back to the airport, I was able to pause and make use of my iPhone photo capability. So all was not lost, as the following photos will verify. The visit was on behalf of the Polynesian Cultural Center, a Richter7 client since the late 90's. Hence, over the years I've had plenty of chances to enjoy Hawaii the way is should be enjoyed. This particular trip was payback for those previous pleasant excursions.