What if Balance is a Myth?
If every yes is also a no, balance isn’t the answer, honesty is.
“You can do anything you want, but not everything.” — David Allen
It felt like a breakup I didn’t see coming.
One day, I opened my laptop to write a new post for Beyond Two Cents, and… nothing. It wasn’t writer’s block, more like an identity crisis.
The words didn’t feel right. The name didn’t feel right.
It felt like putting on an old shirt that still fits but suddenly feels off, tight in the shoulders, too “2021,” too much of who I was, not quite who I am now.
Don’t get me wrong, Beyond Two Cents meant something to me.
It started as a quiet rebellion against hot takes and motivational fluff. I wanted to offer something more thoughtful. Not a soapbox, just a place to process, for me and for anyone else tired of being told what to do and think.
But somewhere along the way, I realized I wasn’t offering insight as currency.
I wasn’t giving you my “beyond my two cents.”
I was working things out in real time.
Not presenting answers, but asking questions and hoping they’d echo somewhere useful, maybe even for you.
So, here we are.
Thinking Through It is the same person behind the keyboard (hi there), just with a name that fits how I think and want to write now.
Not reactively, not performatively, but slowly, on purpose.
Still weekly. Still wondering.
Hopefully, still worth your time.
And this week, I’ve been thinking about one of those beautiful, slippery words we throw around like it means something universal.
A word we chase, crave, promise ourselves we'll find, even though no one can seem to do.
Balance.
The word balance sounds so reasonable, doesn’t it?
So mature. So enlightened. So… Instagrammable.
Whenever I hear someone say they’re “trying to find balance,” I nod supportively and quietly wonder what they mean.
Are we talking about a color-coded calendar? Emotional homeostasis? Equal parts hibiscus water and tequila?
For years, I chased this idea, too.
Work hard, but make time for yourself.
Be present with your kids, but don’t neglect your ambition.
Stay grounded, but think big.
Take risks, but play it safe.
Be spontaneous as soon as you finish scheduling spontaneity for next Thursday from 3:00 to 3:45.
At some point, I realized I wasn’t searching for balance. I was negotiating with reality.
Because choosing one thing means not choosing something else.
Every yes comes with a thousand silent no’s.
Every decision is a door that locks behind you (at least for a while).
Balance, as it’s often sold to us, pretends this isn’t true.
It whispers sweet nothings like you can have it all, only in the right ratio.
But life doesn’t work in spreadsheets.
It works in seasons, trade-offs, and sacrifices that sometimes feel unfair (they aren't).
I don’t say this to be cynical.
I say it because I wish someone had told me sooner that imbalance isn't bad.
It often just means you’re living, doing things, not doing other things, and making choices that have consequences and cost something (everything does).
And that might be the most balance there is.
So what do we do with this?
If balance (at least the kind we’ve been sold) is a mirage, does that mean we surrender to chaos? Let our calendars implode? Ghost our friends and call it boundaries?
Not exactly.
What I’m learning (slowly and stubbornly) is that maybe the goal isn’t balance.
It’s honesty.
Honesty about what matters right now.
Honesty about my capacity of what I can and can’t do.
Honesty about the things I choose and the things I don’t.
Honesty about the cost of ambition, or presence, or resting…and the grace to change my mind when the season shifts.
It’s not symmetrical. It’s not always pretty.
And that’s what Thinking Through It is about.
Not mastering life like a puzzle, but sitting with it like a friend you’re still trying to understand.
Some weeks, we’ll wander into questions like this.
Some weeks, we’ll get more personal.
Sometimes, I’ll write something that doesn’t land, leaves you hanging, or makes you roll your eyes, and that’s ok.
We’re not chasing a resolution here.
We’re just thinking things through.
Slowly, on purpose.
Together.
So that’s where my mind went this week.
If balance is a myth, what else are we chasing that might not be real, helpful, or even ours?
Let me know if there’s a theme, question, or belief you’ve been circling around. I’d love to think through it with you.
You can hit reply, leave a comment, or whisper it into the void. Either way, I’m listening.
See you next week.
📚 Book Recommendation:
Four Thousand Weeks: Time Management for Mortals by Oliver Burkeman
If this topic stirs something in you, that gnawing sense that you’re never doing enough, being enough, choosing right: read Four Thousand Weeks. It’s a time management book that isn’t about managing time. It’s about confronting your limits without spiraling, and living within them instead of trying to out-hack the clock. It’s a gentle slap in the face, the good kind.