Work Life Balance?

// The Problem

I'm currently going through a programme called 'Help to Grow' with Bournemouth University and as a part of that programme, I've been assigned a business mentor to work with - on Friday last week, we had our first session and despite my own head getting in the way (I've never been good with being 'mentored') - I embraced the experience and showed up with enthusiasm.

The mentor (his name is Chris) asked me a couple of questions to warm up the session and then we started a little deep dive - one of his questions really hit me and I stopped to think for a while.. he asked "How's your work life balance?"

Now, I’ve always tripped over the phrase “work‑life balance.” It feels like those plank wobble boards from physiotherapy – the ones that make you sweat just standing still.

Who told us to stand perfectly in the middle and never lean into the edges?

The problem with Chris' question is - I didn’t know whether to laugh or apologise because I don't know what it means to switch off? My mind works all the time, it focuses on everything, all the time and I don't mind being that person who is always switched on because I’m still excited by it - from the moment I wake up, till the moment I go to sleep - my work isn’t a tray I put away, it’s the ink that bleeds into every page.

And I'm ok with that.. I think?

// The Push and the Pull

I think there’s this popular myth that everything needs a neat line drawn through it – this is work, that is life.

As if life sits quietly on one side, waiting for permission but that line has never been there for me.

When I’m on stage hosting an event, mic in hand, I’m not thinking about “work hours” - I’m thinking about the faces in front of me, the nervous energy I get when a student asks their first question and then it's exciting the way my heart flips when someone’s story lands.

When I’m editing late at night or writing this blog when I'm bleary‑eyed in the glow of a laptop, I’m tired, sure but I also catch myself smiling because the words feel right - If 'balance' means walking away from that to pretend a different version of me exists on the sofa, I’m not sure I want it.

Was there ever supposed to be an equal 'work:life' balance? Or did that scale come from a world that sees jobs as things we endure rather than things we pour ourselves into?

I’ve worked those jobs. I’ve chased targets I didn’t believe in. Back then, “balance” meant escape. Now, being busy isn’t a badge because it’s a byproduct of loving something that I want to fully invest myself in. And yes, sometimes that means answering emails on my iPhone in another meeting or scribbling notes on my Remarkable while the kettle boils but it also means sea dips at sunrise to clear my head and long walks when I’m overwhelmed.

My life isn’t divided equally - everything is interwoven – messy, textured, alive.

// The Uncomfortable Truth

The thing that makes my heart skip a beat and makes me feel alive?

I like being in motion.

I enjoy the rush of a packed calendar when it’s filled with things that matter to me. Does that make me a workaholic? This was the question I posed to myself when Chris asked me the question in my mentor session and whilst I looked away from the laptop camera, I thought to myself - maybe to someone who defines “work” as transactions and “life” as everything else, then yes - I am a workaholic but to me, work is making films that make people feel seen, hosting conversations that don’t peddle fluff, writing these words to you in the hope they resonate.

Of course it’s exhausting.

Sometimes I get it wrong, stretch myself too thin, ignore the signs that my body needs a break - that’s not heroic; it’s foolish. Like when I went away a few weekends ago and I managed to catch up on sleep but that doesn't mean that the solution is to adopt a schedule someone else wrote for me or deems 'acceptable' I think it’s to listen harder to my own signals, to rest when I’m depleted and sprint when I’m inspired (which is actually most of the time)

When I think of 'balance' - I think that suggests a static state, a perfect stillness.

But life, at least mine, is more like a furious Paso Doble (you can tell someone's been watching Strictly eh?) You lean forward when the music calls for it, you spin when it surprises you and you catch your breath in the pauses.

Can that be messy? Absolutely. Is it sustainable? Only if you’re honest about why you’re moving - moving for no reason makes you tired I think.

// The Answer

On the call, as I stopped to think and I mulled over the question in my head - I looked down and I can see post it notes with to-do's on them, I have a stack of notebooks with half‑formed sentences and ideas and all of these things are evidence that I’ve never really drawn a line between “this is work” and “this is play.”

Even behind me in the office, my skateboard leans against the same wall as my camera bag and I hit on the answer - maybe the thing I’ve been fighting against isn’t imbalance - it’s the idea that I should feel guilty for loving what I do and doing it all the time.

Have I romanticised busyness? Probably.

Have I ever resented an early alarm because I wanted to make something beautiful? Every. Single. Day.

But I also know the times I tried to slow down for the sake of slowing down felt like I was letting myself down and I get anxious when I'm not busy. Chris’s question wasn’t an accusation; it was a mirror - as good mentors should work - I realised my version of balance doesn’t look like equal parts, it looks like alignment in what I want to do and I have the freedom to make the choices to do things and yes, it’s messy, and that’s okay.

It fits my life and my choices and I don't mind working hard on things that I care about.

// The Question

So here we are, you and I, sitting again at 5am on my sofa as I write another blog with a question that doesn’t have a right answer.

Maybe you’re nodding along because your life is equally as chaotic and you work between the lines too or maybe you’re horrified because you crave a clear switch‑off at 5 pm and that's what makes you sane - but that’s the thing: my definition of balance isn’t a moral stance, it’s a personal choice.

I’m not telling you to stay up past midnight editing or to answer emails in the queue for coffee - I’m asking you to notice what fills you up and what drains you out and to do more of the former and less of the latter. Because I think that's what I've done and I enjoy being sat here, writing this blog and I also enjoy the workdays where my head is full of everything.

Can you let go of someone else’s idea of “how it’s meant to be” and write your own way of working?

Can you listen to the parts of yourself that light up at the thought of a new project or a late‑night brainstorm and also the parts that whisper, “Enough, go outside”?

When was the last time you asked why you crave balance in the first place - is it because you’re exhausted by things you don’t love, or because the world told you 'busy' means successful?

What story are you telling yourself today?

Isn’t choosing the one that makes you feel most alive worth showing up for?