Finding A Balance

I recently watched the music video for Dimash Qudaibergen’s Love’s Not Over Yet. It tells the story of a man who becomes so consumed by work and the pursuit of success that he gradually loses sight of the people he is supposedly working so hard for.

As I watched, I felt an uncomfortable sense of recognition.

Many years ago, while building a landscape business with my twin brother, Nick, I became that man. The business was successful, but somewhere along the way I lost the balance between work and family. I eventually learned that success can come with a price that doesn’t appear on any financial statement.

Like most startups, our business demanded an enormous amount of time. There were risks, long hours and plenty of stress. But then something wonderful happened: Our hard work began paying off.

Success was exhilarating.

As the business passed the five-year mark, sales were booming and our profit margins reached 30% to 35%, almost unheard of in our industry. With that success came more opportunities. New customers, larger projects and more work than we had imagined. The problem was that we rarely said no. Every opportunity seemed too good to pass up, and with each yes, the business demanded a little more of our time.

That was also where we began making a mistake.

Rather than hire more support staff and rent office space, Nick and I continued handling much of the operational and administrative work ourselves. It kept expenses down and profits high. On a financial statement, it looked like a brilliant decision.

There was just one expense missing from the statement: Our time.

The business gradually consumed more and more of it. When things are going well, it’s surprisingly easy to convince yourself that the sacrifices are worthwhile. You tell yourself you’re doing it for your family and your future. You don’t necessarily notice what’s being lost along the way.

By the early 2000s, my marriage was struggling. The business wasn’t the cause of all our problems. We were already growing apart. But the countless hours I devoted to work certainly didn’t help.

If anything, work became a convenient way for me to avoid confronting what was happening at home. Looking back, I can see the irony: While I was working so hard to build something successful, I was neglecting parts of my life that mattered far more.

I don’t regret building the business. It provided financial security, allowed me to retire at 55 and gave me opportunities I never imagined when Nick and I started out.

But I do regret not finding a better balance while building it.

When we eventually sold the company, I took the new owner aside and offered him one piece of advice. It wasn’t about customers, employees, profit margins or growing the business.

“Never forget to find balance in your life,” I told him. “Family should always remain the most important part.”

It was advice earned through experience.

Perhaps that’s one of the benefits of getting older. We accumulate financial assets, but we also accumulate something potentially more valuable: Lessons from the mistakes we’ve made.

Whether younger people listen is another matter. I’m not sure I would have listened when I was younger. Success can be intoxicating, especially when you’ve worked hard to achieve it.

Money matters. Financial security matters. Meaningful work matters.

But none deserves all of us.

Looking back, I no longer think the goal is to choose between success and the people we love. The goal is to build a life spacious enough for both.

I just wish I’d figured that out sooner.