Weeknote 12+13/2025: Investing in time horizon balance
Hello!
We often hear about the importance of work-life balance, but perhaps what we're really seeking is time horizon balance. Our lives unfold simultaneously across different timeframes: the urgent demands of today, the developing projects of our middle distance, and the profound shifts that shape our life's arc.
I’ve found that when we attend to only one of these horizons, we increase the risk of losing our way across the others. When we focus exclusively on the immediate we become reactive and miss the broader patterns that give our days meaning. If we fixate only on distant goals we may sacrifice present joy for a future that is forever just out of reach. In addition, without middle-ground projects and aspirations, we lack the bridges that connect our daily actions to our deepest values.
To exemplify what I’m currently musing on, I’ll share recent developments across my short, medium, and long-term horizons. From an upcoming operation and its ripple effects on work and travel, to professional growth that's finally finding focus, to the bittersweet evolution of family life as children grow toward independence. I want to highlight that these parallel narratives aren't separate stories but intersecting threads in the complex tapestry of a life in progress.
I don't pretend to have mastered this balancing act. In fact, it's the questions that arise at these intersections that I am finding most valuable. How do our immediate challenges reshape our distant dreams? What sacrifices in one timeframe might yield unexpected gifts in another? And how might we stay present for each horizon without losing sight of the others?
Short-term Horizon
A date for my operation has finally been scheduled—I'm over the moon about this news! However, it means cancelling my participation in the Advanced Higher Project Marking this year. I'm also a little disappointed about missing The Flaming Lips in Edinburgh. (If you're looking to buy two tickets, let me know!)
Since I'll be out of action for a few weeks post-operation, I've planned cover work for the classes I'll miss. Wanting to make the best use of their time and gather useful data on student progress, I've created an Edpuzzle playlist for them. This approach was inspired by a recent catch-up with Dave Weston and completing my Edpuzzle Coach25 certification.
On the brighter side, my partner has booked us a trip to Portugal. After holding our collective breath and waiting for an operation date these past seven months, we missed several opportunities to get away from home. While I'll still be taking things more slowly than the rest of the family, at least I'll be in a different location with hopefully more sunshine. We've been in our element researching activities and experiences for the trip.
Medium-term Focus
Recently my faculty head Cat and I reflected on my professional development progress this year. For the first time in over a decade, my planned goals and activities fit on a single page! While it feels unusual not to record every single thing I research or implement in my classroom, our review conversation was much more focused on the impact of my development choices. Adam Robbins writes about the importance of priority planning and mindful selection to help professional development stick here.
One of my key goals has been deeply integrating Edpuzzle into learning and teaching across the Computing department courses. This initiative bridges my short and medium-term goals, creating more flexibility and challenging opportunities for students in the future.
Another goal has been to strengthen the connections between individuals in the local Computing Science community in a sustainable way. To be honest, this has been hard going but with every iteration I’m finding something new that works.
Long-term Horizon
At the beginning of week 12, we took our son to the local college open day to explore potential pathways. We visited engineering, creative arts, fitness, and business faculties so he could ask questions and meet potential lecturers.
This visit brought home the reality that in just a few years, my partner and I will have an empty nest (or perhaps more positively, an open door). Our son is about to sit his first exams, while our daughter is thriving in her new life on the other side of Scotland. These milestones make me incredibly happy (and of course, slightly sad simultaneously).
Now we're planning how the next stage of our lives will unfold. Will we holiday together like we used to? How often will we check in with each other? Who will be the first to crack and insist we get a second dog? It's new and mostly uncharted territory.
Recently an old school friend paid off his mortgage and decided to retire. I'm incredibly proud of his focus and determination to reach this milestone in his 40s. Meanwhile, his former classmates (who will likely never hear of the sacrifices he made), myself included, are drifting along with the current toward the shimmering mirage of a better life—while he spends time with his loved ones at the most important stage of their lives. Best wishes to him!
As I look across these three horizons - the immediate challenges, my evolving professional path, and our changing family dynamics - I find myself with more questions than answers.
How do we balance short-term disruptions with long-term dreams?
What does it mean to narrow my professional focus after years of trying to do it all?
And as our children step toward independence, who do we become when our primary identity as parents shifts?
My friend's early retirement keeps playing on my mind. Did he discover something the rest of us are missing? Is there a different measure of success beyond the constant push forward that most of us accept without question? When he chose to step away while still in his 40s, was it courage or clarity that guided him?
I don't have the answers yet. The operation will happen, Portugal awaits, and the nest will gradually empty whether I'm ready or not. Perhaps the real journey isn't about having everything figured out. Maybe it's about being willing to sit with the uncertainty, to question the path, and to remain open to possibilities I haven't yet imagined.
What would it mean to measure success not by what I accomplish, but by how present I am for each of these transitions? And what might happen if I approached each horizon not with a roadmap, but with curiosity?
Have a great week xx