I first heard this touching parable when I was working at J. Walter. It might have helped me find my way out of advertising hell. Maybe that’s why I’ve included it in nearly every one of my college-graduation speeches. Graduates and especially their parents come up to me afterward and say it was their favorite…
Imagine life as a game in which you’re juggling five balls in the air.
Let’s name them work, family, health, friends, and spirit. Somehow you’re keeping all those balls in the air. That’s not an easy thing to do.
Sound familiar? Sound a little like your life? Well, it definitely sounds like mine.
Hopefully, you come to understand that work is a rubber ball. If you drop it, it will usually bounce back.
But the other four balls—family, health, friends, and spirit—are made of glass.
If you drop one of these, it will be irrevocably scuffed, marked, nicked, damaged, or even shattered. It will never be the same.
Once you understand that, maybe, just maybe, you’ll strive for more balance in your life.
A related story just popped into my head.
I was scheduled to appear on a morning television show to promote my novel The Lake House. Being a guest on morning TV is a big deal for a writer. Little, Brown had given the network an exclusive, which is usually the way it works.
Very late the night before, I got a phone call from Anne Denyeau, the wife of my friend Joe. He had been very sick with cancer. Now Anne told me Joe might not make it through the next day. He wanted to see me. Could I come to their house in New Jersey the next morning?
I called the PR person at Little, Brown and told her I had to back out of the TV appearance. I told her why. She understood, though she wasn’t happy about having to break the news to the booker at NBC. I didn’t blame her, and honestly, I wondered if I was making the right decision.
Early in the morning, my buddy Ned Mahoney and I took the trip from Westchester to Ridgewood, New Jersey, to see our friend.
Joe’s family was gathered in the living room of their house. Joe was in a bed they’d set up on one side of the room. Unfortunately, he hadn’t opened his eyes or spoken for several hours. Anne apologized for getting Ned and me to make the trip.
The two of us sat down beside Joe’s bed. We said a prayer or two. Then I had a crazy idea. Joe was infamous for arriving late to every imaginable event, but especially tee times for our monthly golf games.
I leaned in close to him and spoke. “Joe! Where the hell are you? You’re late. We’re on the first tee!”
Joe’s eyes popped open. He saw who was there—Ned Mahoney and me. He smiled. Then Joseph went back to sleep.
But you know what? I didn’t drop one of those glass balls that day. Ned Mahoney and I were right there where we needed to be—with our friend.