The Week I Stopped Chasing Balance
- Lora Crestan
- Jul 1
- 3 min read
Updated: Jul 8
It was a perfectly normal Tuesday.
My calendar was color-coded to perfection. All the back-to-back meetings blocked with military precision. Every task had its slot, every moment accounted for. (For those who know me, this rings really true!) I was prepping for a client session, firing off emails during what should’ve been lunch, and half-listening to a webinar while mentally sorting out what I could throw together for dinner. (Spoiler: nothing with actual vegetables.)
I had crammed everything into my day the way I always did: maximize every minute, move fast, be productive, keep the machine running. If I just worked harder and planned better, surely I could make it all fit.
Then came two buzzes:
First, the Peloton app:
“Your yoga session with Chelsea Jackson-Roberts starts in 10 minutes.”
Second, a calendar alert I’d set myself:
“Plan Summer activities with Don after dinner. Do NOT bump again.”
That knot in my stomach? Been there for weeks. My workout streak was about to break. The time with Don - the one pocket of connection in our week where we could talk & I wouldn’t fall asleep or doomscroll - was on the chopping block again. And somewhere on my voicemail was a follow-up from my doctor's office I’d been ignoring. Again.
That night I woke up at 2AM. Again. I was cycling through my to-dos and all the places I was dropping balls. The guilt was on loop: not showing up enough at work, not texting my kids good night or good morning (yes, I am that mom - cue Beverly Goldberg), not taking care of my body, not being present anywhere fully. Not. Enough.
But underneath the guilt?
Grief.
Grief for the time I’d missed with my boys before they moved out.
Grief for the friend walks and back-deck wine I’d traded for “just one more task.”
Grief for the relationship with myself that I’d ghosted trying to be everything to everyone else.
I wasn’t failing at balance. I was burning out. And the cost? More than just exhaustion.
It didn’t take a health crisis or job loss to wake me up. It took finally admitting the truth:
Chasing balance was keeping me from living fully.
Welcome to Integration in Practice
You probably don’t need more content in your life. I get it. But this isn’t just content. It’s a different conversation. It’s one that invites reflection, real talk, and doable tools.
Think of it as a brain-dump-meets-truth-teller.
Here, I’ll be sharing:
Core Integration Ideas ~ real frameworks, not fluff
Real Applications ~ how my clients and I use these tools in real life
Practical Next Steps ~ what you can try right now
Behind-the-Scenes Insight ~ early looks into the tools and ideas inside my upcoming book Work Is Not Your Life
No productivity porn. No perfect schedules. Just clarity, intention, and momentum. All on your terms.
Who This Is For
You might be:
A leader stepping into a bigger role without wanting to lose yourself
A parent navigating new dynamics with adult kids (or just figuring out parenthood and career at the same time)
Someone recovering from burnout and unwilling to go back
A high-achiever dealing with the voice in your head that loves to whisper “not good enough” or “what were you thinking?!”
A professional facing major life or health shifts and asking, "What now?"
Whatever brought you here, you’ll find real strategies that respect your ambition and your humanity.
A Personal Invitation
This is a two-way conversation.
So let me ask:
What’s the biggest challenge you face when trying to integrate work with the rest of your life?
Leave a comment and let me know. I read every note and your answers shape what I share next.
Here’s to living not in perfect balance, but in meaningful integration.
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