Enough Is Enough

While some people neglect their own needs because they're too busy pleasing their boss or colleagues, others act as self-centered as an infant. They operate at the center of their own universe, oblivious to their place in the world around them. Baker tells the story of an executive who, when he came to Canyon Ranch, insisted that his work had to be his top priority -- that it was a matter of life or death. He left Tucson with a homework assignment: Spend two days volunteering at a pediatric-oncology ward. Baker made the necessary arrangements. "I could have talked about life and death until I was blue in the face, but he had to gain that perspective for himself. He called me two months later and said, 'Now I understand. I have some serious issues involving work.' " The man began to spend more time with his wife, and eventually he started to pursue other interests outside the office as well.

Most people don't realize how out of kilter their lives have become until they face a crisis -- a divorce, a death in the family, perhaps a heart attack. Chris Newell doesn't want to wait for that sort of wake-up call. His doctor told him that if he doesn't lose weight and get his blood pressure under control, he'll have to go on medication, and he doesn't want that.

Newell, 48, is about to start a demanding new job that requires more travel than he is accustomed to. After running the Lotus Institute, an innovation lab associated with Lotus Development Corp., he is looking forward to assuming a more hands-on role as chief knowledge officer at Viant, an e-commerce consulting group. But he is also apprehensive. He has to do a better job of managing both his work and his health. "I'm about to enter a more stressful environment, and I need a better me -- mentally, emotionally, and physically," he says. "Before, I was running out of energy."

Before, when he saw himself in the mirror each morning, he almost didn't recognize his own body. The guy who wrestled at 140 pounds in high school, who played on the tennis team in college, who at one point could bicycle 100 miles a day -- that guy had somehow ballooned to 250 pounds. If only he had taken his health as seriously as his career, he thought. "In the past, I rationalized things," Newell says. "This time, I knew that if I didn't take my health seriously, I might take years off my life."

Newell wants both a challenging career and good health. He wants to help change the way companies share knowledge -- but he also wants to be around long enough to enjoy his new house on Cape Cod, along with his wife, their daughter, and his 10 siblings. So, at Canyon Ranch, he meets with a physiologist, he attends classes on nutrition and takes a cooking class, he plays tennis for the first time in 20 years. The experience is exhilarating and inspiring. "It's like recapturing the old spirit, the old sense of energy," Newell says.

Balance Takes Discipline, Not Willpower

"There isn't enough time in the day to accomplish everything I need to get done." Baker, who hears that complaint every week, says that it misses the point. Balance, he argues, is not a math problem: It's not a matter of shifting a few hours each week from one activity to another. If it were that easy, everyone with a PalmPilot would look as serene as the Dalai Lama. Balance is a design problem -- a matter of coming to terms with your values and priorities, of reckoning with the trade-offs that they require. Balance is not about willpower, Baker insists. If you depend only on willpower, you're likely to cave in whenever you feel pressured, tired, or unhappy. Balance is about discipline: It's about deciding what's important and then creating a structure that defines how you spend your time.

All of that may sound self-evident. But when you lead the kind of pedal-to-the-metal schedule that many of his guests lead, you don't stop to ruminate about time and values. And, if you do stop, you're likely to see huge gaps between what you say is important and what you actually spend your time doing.

On Tuesday night, Baker leads a session on balance and values. He hands out a list of values: spirituality, financial growth, relation-ships, control, adventure. Circle any that are important to you, he tells the group, or add others to the list. Now narrow that list down to your three core values, and ask yourself, "Is there a gap between what I say that I value and how I behave?" Bridging that gap is essential to achieving "enoughness," because living with that gap means that you're living in conflict with yourself. In a well-designed life, behavior reflects values -- and values drive action. So what should you do if your behavior is out of sync with your values? Write down specific actions that reflect your core values. Then do one of those actions this week, and do other actions on the list in the weeks that follow.

If there is one question that's guaranteed to inspire a sense of purpose and discipline, it is this: What do you want your legacy to be? Baker suggests that his guests actually write their own obituary. At first, the exercise seems corny -- even grisly. But soon the guests become deeply absorbed in completing a simple fill-in-the-blank form: "At the time of death, principal endeavor was . . ." So far, so easy. "Will be honored for . . ." A little tougher. "Will be remembered by . . ." Hmmm. "Because of . . ." Hmmmmm. "Made contributions in the area of . . ." "Always hoped to . . ." "Was most proud of . . ." How do you feel about your obituary? Baker asks his guests. Having read it, could you rest in peace?