Get On the Balcony Now (Even If It’s Outside)

In the midst of unprecedented times of change, crisis and confusion, it’s so easy to get sucked into a life-draining spiral. Today I’m reflecting that people are likely feeling stuck in a kind of crazy tension that we just want to resolve, whether it’s issues related to the pandemic, to election, to jobs, or to injustice. In times like this we need to “get on the balcony” and that balcony might just be outside. Let’s talk a little about self leadership and a little Norwegian concept called friluftsliv. It has something to do with an important habit (see my post on keystone habit for review) that I can’t really live without right now.

What does it mean to “get on the balcony?”

Recently I’ve returned to an important book for me from a decade ago called Leadership Without Easy Answers. Author and leadership practitioner and theorist, Ron Hefeitz, gives a a framework for how to lead in turbulent times — especially when the kind of change you need to lead is not something we’ve ever seen before. Kind of like life right now. The concepts in this book work great if you’re a leader, but they also help me think about coping with change, something you and I are both wrestling with today.

Heifetz says that adaptive leaders have to be both active and reflective. In order to lead people (or ourselves) where we’ve never been before, we have to create environments where people can live in the tension and seek creative new solutions. But that tension is draining, it’s actually exhausting sometimes, and we often get tossed and confused in the midst of the chaos.

One key component of self-management for handling this kind of change is “getting to the balcony.” Think of an image of a big swirling dance that is happening, and in the moment we can get so caught up in it, on the floor, reacting to the movements and the music. It’s hard when we are in the midst of the movement to sense what our next move is — we are just reacting. But when we stand on the balcony and observe, we can see the patterns of the dance. This is how Heifetz describes the need for the balcony:

“Listening to oneself requires a place where one can hear oneself think. Working amidst the cacophony of a multiple-band dance floor, one needs a sanctuary to restore one’s sense of purpose, put issues in perspective, and regain courage and heart. When serving as the repository of many conflicting aspirations, a person can lose himself in the role by failing to distinguish his inner voice from the voices that clamor for attention outside. Partners can help greatly, as can a run, a quiet walk or a prayer to break the spell cast by the frenzy on the floor. We need sanctuaries. .

(Ronald A. Heifetz, in chapter 11 of Leadership Without Easy Answers)

Can a Norwegian concept of outdoor living be your balcony?

Honestly, in the past year there have been so many times I’ve realized that I needed a balcony. The sanity of a daily walk, typically an hour long, has been a steady coping mechanism for me and my wife. The chaos of the day is daily tamed by our walking routine. This habit has literally transformed my health and my emotional sanity. Going on about 7 months now I have taken an hour walk almost every single day. This has been a sanctuary. Do you have any sanity-restoring and healing sanctuaries that you have leaned on in this time?

Of course, now that it’s rainy and cold more here in the PNW, now that’s it’s dark, Kristen and I have wondered aloud — “are we going to continue this?” Well, the answer is yes. Recently she quoted to me something she heard someone else say — “there are no bad weather days, just bad clothing days.” We’ve pulled out the Gore-tex gear. We’ve ordered jogging reflector and light vests.

Have you heard of the Norwegian concept of friluftsliv (wanna pronounce it correctly)? It’s basically translated as “open air living” but it means so much more than literally being outside, it’s a philosophy of connecting with nature, and this article can get you oriented. The basic idea is that spending time outdoors is an important part of wellness, a way of relating to the whole world, of restoring some sanity. For Norwegians who live in a small country in the midst of amazingly picturesque outdoor settings, it’s just a part of their culture.

For me, as a Christian, I sense the wonder and mystery and power of God through the created, natural order. The problems I face in my daily life seem to find their proper perspective when I am looking at a rumbling surf, a moist forest floor filled with ferns and massive fir trunks, or quite simply, the paved walkways full of bright yellow and orange maple leaves from my neighbors’ towering trees.

I’m getting to the balcony every day, because I desperately need it. Only the balcony is a daily walk outside, rain or shine, light or dark. I think my Norwegian ancestors would be proud that I’m connecting to my heritage by getting outside more. I know Mom certainly is! After all, Grandpa was from Bergen and Grandma from Stavanger, both gorgeous coastal towns on the western coast of Norway. These places are much like Seattle, actually, which gives me insight into why so many Norwegians settled in my hometown.

Where is your balcony?

What about you? Do you need to get on the balcony? Have you been drained from the chaos and tension of these times that you’ve lost a bit of your personal balance? Do you find so many voices competing for your time and attention that you need space to reflect, find purpose again and restore your courage and heart for the important work of living in these times? It might be time to get on the balcony. How about joining me outside during these winter months where it seems to be safer from this crazy pandemic, and connects us to something larger, more powerful, restorative? I’ll see you out there on the path!

Question: Where can you go to get on the balcony this week?

Leave a comment or drop me an email and let me know whether you found this blog helpful. Be well out there on the path, friend, and as always let me know how I can serve you as you seek to be your best self.

With joy in the journey,
Jeff