Birthday Wishes, Carrots, and the Search for Balance

“Happy birthday to you…”

The song had barely begun when Nathalie froze.

Not emotionally. Technologically.

One moment she was smiling as the entire group launched into an enthusiastic birthday serenade, and the next she was locked in place by a stubborn internet connection. It was perhaps the most fitting way to begin a Lunch meeting: with warmth, laughter, and technology quietly plotting against everyone involved.

Before the singing, The Mayor had already made Nathalie’s day special. He had created a beautiful birthday image inspired by flowing water and a tea ceremony Nathalie had once mentioned. The gift carried a thoughtful personal touch, the kind that makes people feel seen. The Mayor had even digitally dressed Nathalie and Fruitloop in a traditional Korean hanbok. Nathalie admitted it was the first time she had ever seen herself wearing one. Frank quickly reminded everyone that there was photographic evidence proving he had worn one too.

From there, the conversation drifted naturally into the month’s new theme: Balance.

Fruitloop asked what health and lifestyle balance meant to everyone. Nathalie spoke first. For her, balance was about finding harmony between professional life and personal life, making sure neither side overwhelmed the other. It sounded simple enough in theory.

I immediately agreed with her. Or at least I tried to explain why I agreed. Like many of my explanations, it began with one idea, took a scenic route through three others, and eventually arrived at the destination.

I talked about how easy it is to pour all of your energy into a single area of life. Work, family, responsibilities—sometimes one thing becomes so large that everything else disappears behind it. I admitted that there are weeks when I focus entirely on my job and suddenly realise I haven’t paid enough attention to my family, my friends, or even myself.

The Mayor listened patiently before pointing out a rather uncomfortable truth.

Even while discussing work-life balance, I was still talking almost entirely about work.

The table erupted in laughter.

To be fair, I hadn’t had breakfast yet.

That explanation didn’t help my case nearly as much as I hoped it would.

While I defended myself, Uno the cat quietly joined the meeting. The Mayor introduced him as a Zoom-crasher with very little to contribute. Given the amount of sleeping cats do, I suspect Uno may actually have been the leading expert on the day’s topic.

When Fruitloop asked about healthy habits that help us through difficult days, our answers revealed just how differently people approach wellness.

For me, it was Pilates, stretching, breathing exercises, and quiet moments with family. There is something powerful about slowing down enough to listen to your own breathing. It forces the noise in your mind to become a little quieter.

Nathalie reflected on her working years and how difficult it had been to leave work behind. Even holidays had been filled with thoughts of unfinished tasks waiting for her return. These days, she said, she tries to create distance between herself and the problems that threaten to overwhelm her. Not avoidance. Perspective.

Fruitloop’s answer was wonderfully practical.

Sleep.

Drink water.

Go outside.

Simple.

The Mayor looked positively relieved.

For several minutes he had listened to discussions involving mindset, breathing techniques, stretching routines, emotional balance, and philosophical reflections. Finally he leaned forward and announced that everyone was making life far too complicated.

His healthy habit?

Going to bed.

That was it.

At the end of the day, he says “Hallelujah,” falls asleep within five minutes, and considers the matter solved.

Honestly, it was difficult to argue with his logic.

The discussion then took a surprising turn when Fruitloop accidentally revealed her dream of becoming a dog and Frank confessed that he would happily become one of his cats.

The arrangement was quickly negotiated.

Nathalie and I would take over running Brida while Fruitloop barked, Frank meowed, and both of them spent their days sleeping in sunny spots around the house.

Our only responsibilities would be supplying food, water, and suitable sleeping conditions.

It was a remarkably detailed succession plan.

Eventually, the conversation returned to caring for ourselves while caring for others.

Nathalie observed that when our basic needs are met—sleep, movement, hydration, connection—it becomes much easier to give to others. Her answer carried the calm confidence of someone who has spent years learning what truly matters.

I spoke about the importance of being alone sometimes. Not lonely. Just alone. Moments of prayer, breathing, gratitude, and reflection help me reconnect with myself. As I get older, I become increasingly aware that taking care of my body today is an investment in the person I will become twenty years from now.

The Mayor responded with a story from a conversation he had the day before. The conclusion was surprisingly simple: when we care for other people, that care often finds its way back to us.

The idea lingered around the table for a moment.

Perhaps balance is not always about dividing attention equally. Perhaps it is about recognising that our connections with other people nourish us too.

Of course, Fruitloop’s self-care strategy remained far more straightforward.

Chocolate.

Cheesecake.

Chai tea.

The Three C’s.

No further explanation required.

Later, when discussing ideal weekends, our personalities emerged once again.

I dreamed about sleeping, going outside, and baking cakes.

Nathalie wanted something much more radical.

She wanted to remove the mobile phone from her life.

Not forever. Just long enough to remember what uninterrupted conversations feel like. She spoke about real human connection, manual activities, family, friends, and being fully present without a screen demanding attention every few minutes.

The Mayor immediately asked what would happen if she simply switched the phone off for the weekend.

The fact that nobody had a good answer probably says everything about modern life.

As the meeting moved toward its conclusion, Fruitloop unveiled the traditional final challenge.

If vegetables could give life advice, which vegetable would be the wisest?

For reasons nobody fully understands, three of us independently chose carrots.

The Mayor argued that carrots improve eyesight, helping us see the world around us rather than staring endlessly at our phones.

I defended carrots because they are healthy and delicious when mixed with oranges and beetroot.

Nathalie explained that in France there is a saying suggesting carrots make people kinder. In her ideal world, everyone would eat more carrots and become more lovable.

Fruitloop refused to follow the carrot movement.

She chose a pea.

A tiny vegetable constantly escaping forks, rolling under refrigerators, surviving impossible situations, and accumulating wisdom through adversity.

It was one of the most Fruitloop answers imaginable.

Eventually, Nathalie’s connection began protesting once again, goodbyes were exchanged, and the meeting came to an end.

As the screens blinked dark one by one, I found myself thinking about balance.

We spend so much time searching for it as though it is some perfect destination waiting for us at the end of a long journey.

But perhaps balance is something smaller.

A birthday song sung across continents.

A thoughtful gift inspired by an old conversation.

A discussion about health that somehow turns into a debate about becoming household pets.

A room full of people helping each other find the right words.

And somewhere between the carrots, the scarves, the cheesecake, and the sleeping cat, remembering that taking care of ourselves might not be as complicated as we think.

Sometimes it starts with a glass of water.

Sometimes with a good night’s sleep.

And sometimes with friends who are willing to sing Happy Birthday—even if the internet freezes halfway through.