Chess Instead of Juggling Anyone?

I’ve always loved the image of the “Redbook Juggler.”

For those of you who may not remember back that far the Redbook Juggler was an image at the heart of an advertising campaign for Redbook magazine in the 1980s. Women had just recently started to enter the workforce in large numbers and the prevailing notion was that we could manage it all. The Redbook Juggler effortlessly juggled her responsibilities to work, to home, to relationships, to community and more.

It was a prevailing theme of the moment. The lyrics of an Enjoli perfume ad from 1980 similarly declared:  “I can bring home the bacon, fry it up in the pan, and never let you forget you’re a man…” (That commercial is on youtube of course – have a look here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jA4DR4vEgrs)

Those days are gone but the image of the modern professional woman as a juggler has stuck. Somehow we need to keep it all going and we do keep it all going without ever letting all the balls fall to the ground.

Last night I read an intriguing blog post questioning the continued validity of the juggler image for professionals of either gender. Michael Felberbaum of Numespot writes:

…did you ever put the balls down, step back and think about the cost of viewing your work as a juggling act?  What is the personal toll of being a juggler all the time?  Is it a healthy metaphor for your work? http://tinyurl.com/y9mafd5

As Michael rightly points out the juggling metaphor has serious limitations. Chief among these is the pressure of having to keep everything going lest we drop one or more balls and watch the whole thing fall apart.  Oh the pressure! Do we really need it?

I suggested to Michael directly that perhaps the time had come to substitute an image of professional – whether man or woman — as chess player. Thinking about it more the chess game image seems especially appropriate for the nearly universal goals of getting it all done in less time, and substantially increasing the quality of life:

• Making the moving parts chess pieces more closely mirrors the fact that each element of the many things we try to juggle has its own characteristics. Representing family responsibilities as moving pieces like pawns or knights, or the demands of the job like a rook or a bishop, gives a more dimensional picture than a juggling ball.
• The chess pieces image is also a better fit for the complex way our myriad responsibilities occasionally work together and occasionally feel as it they’re failing each other (falling on the board) or working against us.
• In the same way, the other team is composed of lots of players with different attributes—some very similar to ours. This looks a lot like the changing nature of what anyone trying to “do it all” is up against, especially the part where what is a challenge (the opposing piece) often bears a strong resemblance to ourselves.
• The goal of a game of chess fits really well too if we understand “capturing the King” as capturing the elusive prize of balance, however temporarily. We win when we get it and get there. What that means varies from day to day on the chessboard and in life too.
• The plays we all make, trying to manage the various moving pieces each with their own idiosyncrasies, keep the dynamism of the act of juggling in the image. We’re not tossing balls in the air and trying to avoid dropping them. But we are constantly arranging and rearranging the pieces on the chessboard to move towards than oh-so-hard-to-secure win.

I am aware that the game of chess is a battle between two armies. But there are crucial differences between a real war and the fight of a chess game.

For one thing, you can stop a chess game at any moment and walk away from the fight but most of the pieces stay right where they were. (An opponent’s move during your pause might be an exception.) That feels a lot like letting go of the big picture focus for a bit to zero in on one aspect of our life.

We all do this all the time when we prioritize a work project over homekeeping for a while or a child’s school event over a monthly social engagement.

But the game waits for us. As opposed to what would happen in a real war. And as opposed to what happens when we move our attention away from juggling for a second and the whole circle of balls crashes to pieces.

When we’re ready, (or forced,) to resume play we get right into the battle again. But we know it’s a play battle, simulated, and that relieves a lot of the pressure.

In fact, the more I think about it the more I like this idea of a constant chess game in which we aim to rearrange the pieces to suit the goal of the moment.

Care to join me in a game anyone?

Let me know what you think.