There is much
talk about the need for balance in our lives, but whose life is ever truly in
balance?
A brain tumour in
my early twenties thwarted my attempts to pursue an education, compounded later
by marriage, the birth of a child, affliction courtesy of another tumour, and,
finally divorce … aagh!!
So, the word
balance is a little troubling to me.
I find more
inspiration in the idea of asymmetry. Some of the most compelling works of art
are based on the idea that the visually off-kilter have more life, interest and
appeal, than the exactingly balanced.
Traditional
Japanese art and design, for instance, are built on a respect for asymmetry.
Think bonsai and calligraphy in particular. The fashion designer Yohji Yamamoto
is considered a genius, famous for incorporating this sensibility into his
clothing line.
Perhaps there is
room for such a sensibility when it comes to designing a life, one that makes
room for the inevitable chaos that creates asymmetry.
And maybe revising our expectations, where a balanced life is concerned, can free us, finally, to play with asymmetry in ways that foster vitality and
wellbeing.
The beauty of
asymmetry is that, ironically, it follows the natural order of things. Nothing
in nature is perfectly symmetrical. It mirrors the larger construct of which we
are an indelible part—a reflection of the basic truth that balance, at best,
can only be understood in relative terms.
Meaning that the
trajectory of our life will naturally undulate from one side of a polarity to
the other, not remain in the static middle.
At the end of
the day, I think the point in striving for ‘balance’ may simply be to avoid any
soul-destroying extremes that rob us of our enthusiasm for living—including,
especially, extreme notions of balance.
