Walking in Balance
How True Strength Combines All Our Parts.
"The highest good is like water. Water gives life to the ten thousand things and does not strive.” —Lao Tzu
Let’s picture a simple moment.
Life, up close.
A parent.
A child.
A bike.
Maybe new, maybe a bit wobbly.
The child rides.
A flash of pride.
Then a stumble, a fall.
A scraped knee. A sharp breath.
They look up.
Eyes wide, searching yours.
Waiting.
A lip trembles. Tears start to form,
a mix of shame and the sting of bruises.
In that instant, a choice.
Two paths open.
One path:
Your eyes meet theirs.
Maybe a little stern.
Disappointment? Frustration?
It’s been an hour, after all.
Words come:
"Get up. Don’t cry.
Be tough.
Get back on and try again."
The other path:
Your eyes meet theirs.
Soft, but steady.
Full of care.
Concern.
And quiet belief.
It’s been an hour,
but you won’t give up on them.
Words come:
"Oh, that looked rough.
Are you okay?
Take a moment. Breathe. When you're ready, let’s try again together."
The first path?
It often teaches us to hide pain.
To toughen our hearts in a way that closes them.
Theirs, and maybe ours too.
A lesson in suppression.
The other?
That’s a road to real resilience.
To knowing we can lean on each other.
It shows that strength
and tenderness can, and must, walk together.
A lesson in integration.
This small, everyday moment,
this simple choice,
can tell us so much
about balance.
About harmony.
About a love that truly helps us grow.
The False Choices We're Often Sold
Strength or Tenderness.
Power or Care.
Logic or Emotion.
Being firm or being kind.
So often,
life seems to offer these as opposites.
As if we must pick a side.
Define ourselves by what we are not,
as much as by what we are.
As if embracing one means rejecting the other.
This is a false choice.
A limiting story.
It cuts our whole selves in two.
We don't need to choose between them.
We can be both.
We are both,
in our fullest expression.
Often at the very same time.
Strength isn't the lack of Tenderness.
Real strength is often deeper, wiser, more resilient with it.
Power isn't the lack of Care.
Power without care can be harsh, empty, ultimately brittle.
Logic isn't the lack of Emotion.
Our feelings give us vital clues;
our logic helps us understand
and navigate them wisely.
Emotional intelligence,
we now know, is a greater predictor
of success than IQ alone.
These qualities aren't enemies.
They are parts of a richer, fuller self.
They work together.
Weaving in and out,
around and through,
like water flowing in a river.
Take a moment now.
Pause.
Think how much more
these vital parts of us become,
how much stronger and truer,
when they surround each other.
When they inform each other.
Strength, wrapped in Tenderness.
Power, guided by Care.
Logic, lit up by Emotion.
Independence, rooted in the strength of Connection.
What happens then?
It's transformative.
They stop being weapons or shields.
They become bridges.
Bringing people closer.
Healing divides.
Building something stronger
than any one quality could alone.
This helps everyone.
If we want to feel
whole,
fulfilled,
if we truly want to belong—
to ourselves, to others, to the world—
we have to choose
not to pick sides within ourselves.
We can invite all our parts to the table.
We can bring them,
with thought,
into balance.
It's a good way to live.
The Strength in Connection
One of the greatest myths
is that true strength means standing entirely alone.
That needing help,
relying on others,
valuing how much we need each other,
is a sign of weakness.
But history, and our own hearts, tell a different story.
Early communities thrived not on lone warriors,
but on cooperation, shared work, and mutual care.
Survival itself depended on interdependence.
No one truly succeeds alone.
Every great leader, thinker, or creator had
mentors, partners, a web of support.
The strongest teams, in any field,
are built on trust and collaboration,
not just top-down command.
The strongest among us
are not those who carry the world's weight alone.
They are those who know
when to lead,
when to support,
when to ask for help,
and when to step back and let others guide.
They understand that real power
is often found in connection.
Try This: Finding Your Balance Point
This week, try to notice
when you feel pulled between
two ways of being that seem like opposites:
See the "Either/Or" Moment: When did you feel you had to be either strong or gentle? Either logical or empathetic? Either independent or ask for support? Think of a real situation.
Notice the Feeling: What did that tension feel like? What old story or belief might have pushed you to pick just one side?
Imagine "Both/And": How might things have shifted if you had tried to bring both qualities? What would "Strength and Tenderness" have looked like right then? "Logic and Emotion"? "Decisiveness and Collaboration"? What small action could have shown that balance?
Carry it Forward: The next time you feel that "either/or" pull, pause. Ask: How can I walk in balance here? How can I be both? How can I connect? You can do this. It often feels good to try.
This isn't about instant, perfect balance.
It's about the practice.
The gentle, brave act
of refusing to be cut in half.
Of choosing wholeness.
It helps us grow.
The Harmony of Wholeness
Walking in balance
isn't about finding some fixed,
perfectly still middle point.
It’s a living dance.
A mindful, moment-to-moment adjustment.
Like riding that bike,
finding equilibrium again and again.
It’s knowing that
our fullness,
our real strength,
our deepest wisdom,
comes not from choosing
one quality over another,
but from our ability to hold them all.
To weave them together.
To use them wisely,
to connect,
to heal,
to build a more harmonious world,
inside us and around us.
This isn't just about knowing.
It's about doing.
Wholeness isn't a destination.
It's a practice.
A way of moving through the world
with intention and purpose.
This is the path of many rivers,
each carving its course,
around obstacles,
through valleys,
finding their way to the ocean,
together.
It’s a good path to be on.