BLOG: Navigating complexities of work-life balance
It was a cold Thursday night in November — the night of Thanksgiving 2022.
The driver opened the trunk, put my suitcase in and I got into the car. We were on our way to John F. Kennedy airport, about 2 hours away. I was going to take the longest flight of my life — 15 hours to South Korea. I was leaving on a Thursday night after having said goodbye to my family after our Thanksgiving dinner and planned to arrive Saturday morning in Seoul. Work-life balance felt very off kilter to me as I rode away.
‘Mom guilt’
In the days leading up to this trip, when people would ask me about my Thanksgiving plans, I would consistently get the surprised look and they would say, “You are going to Korea?” Followed by, “You are so amazing, I don’t know how you do it.” or “Are you excited?”
The truth was that as I was on my way to the airport, I felt anything but amazing or excited. I kept asking myself what I was doing and is this really how I should be spending my holiday weekend. I am the mom of a 9-year-old boy, a breast medical oncologist, chief of breast medical oncology at Yale Cancer Center and president of the International Society of Multinational Association of Cancer in Supportive Care (MASCC).
The Korean Cancer Supportive Society had recently joined as an affiliate to MASCC, and as president, I had the opportunity to travel to South Korea to give a plenary talk and officially celebrate the collaboration between the societies. Because American Thanksgiving is clearly not a global holiday, the festivities fell during our holiday weekend.
By the time I arrived at the airport, I had allowed mom guilt to saturate me thoroughly and it was time to deal with the practicalities of international travel and get through the airport to my gate. It was the first time I was flying business class, and I began to relax in the comfort of the Korean Air lounge. I was tired and anxious but was also beginning to feel the inklings of excitement over the wonderful privilege and opportunity that this was.
Compromise
I arrived on a Saturday morning and began to experience a beautiful new land unknown to me previously.
I spoke to my son who told me proudly I was talking to him from the future given the time zone difference. I was in the future, and the tethering of my old negative thought patterns including feelings of guilt and anxieties seemed a part of the past.
I met with colleagues, signed the affiliation agreement as president and gave my talk. The evening ended with a soothing traditional Korean meal in a restaurant that was previously inhabited by a member of the royal family. My hosts were sure to point out that I was sitting in a chair previously sat on by Pope Francis. The surreal evening ended with an exchange of thoughtful gifts, including a stamp with my name in Korean. I left dinner knowing that I would remember fondly this night for years to come.
The next day was my only free day in Seoul before my flight back home on Monday. The work-life debate once again took hold. This version was about whether to spend the day working and catching up on all the backlog of items on my to do list. I knew if I worked all day that I would feel less stressed the rest of week. Yet, the idea of not seeing some of the key historic sites in South Korea after such a long plane ride seemed like such a loss. So, I compromised with myself and booked a half-day tour. My plan was to work the rest of the day.
On the tour, I visited traditional Korean temples and palaces. I felt more alive and nimble than I had felt in a very long time. With me were a small group of Americans who were also there for work as a tight knit group of colleagues. As I heard their easy banter, one conversation line stood out to me in its simplicity and absence of guilt. They asked each other what day they celebrated Thanksgiving so that they could spend time with friends and family since they were unable to be home on the actual holiday. It may seem obvious to some to do this, and I had certainly heard of these types of modifications before, but in that moment, I realized that I had torn myself apart with guilt and anxiety over being away when there was an alternative mode of thinking and being. I felt happy for the opportunity for this enriching experience and that my current leadership roles allowed me the chance to experience it.
Navigating life’s complexities
I ended up extending the tour to a full day. The day continued to calm my heart as I walked down winding streets, tasted food in open air markets and found items to take back to my family, including a snow globe for my son. He has accumulated a collection of these of all the places I have visited for my work. He is proud of me and my many accomplishments.
Ultimately, I don’t have answers for the complexities we navigate as professionals with personal lives that all need tending. After this trip, I realized that one-size prescriptive recommendations of “just say no” or “family first” don’t always resonate. It is possible to travel to a foreign land on the night of Thanksgiving and return more enriched and clearer about the beauty of life and connections.
I hugged my 9-year-old son on Monday night, and all was full circle again.
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Maryam Lustberg , MD, MPH, is director of The Breast Center at Smilow Cancer Hospital and chief of breast medical oncology at Yale Cancer Center. She can be reached at maryam.lustberg@yale.edu.
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