Everyone seems to be chasing “balance” like it’s a holy grail. The perfect equation of work, relationships, health, creativity, leisure, and growth — all humming in harmonious unison. The calendars, the colour-coded routines, the wellness hacks — all in pursuit of the elusive everything-at-once equilibrium.
But what if the real magic isn’t in balance at all?
What if the pursuit of balance is actually a form of self-sabotage — a quieter, socially sanctioned way of staying stuck?
We’re not meant to live every part of our life at full throttle simultaneously. Humans aren’t spreadsheets. We’re not built for infinite tabs open at once.
What if we, too, are wired for seasons — like the weather, like the moon, like tides pulling in and drawing back? What if our lives are meant to move in rhythms — not in static balance, but in motion, in phases, in cycles of intensity and recovery?
The myth of sustainable balance
Let’s be honest: no one is actually “balanced” all the time. Ask any parent of a newborn. Any founder in launch mode. Any athlete training for competition. There are seasons of life that demand disproportionate energy, and pretending otherwise doesn’t make you enlightened — it makes you burnt out.
The pursuit of balance often becomes a performance: a way to appear like you’re on top of things, when inside, you’re paddling like hell just to stay afloat. Balance asks us to be everything, everywhere, all at once. Seasons ask us to choose.
Living seasonally means living intentionally
When you accept life in seasons, something shifts. You start asking better questions:
What needs my attention right now?
What can wait?
What can be done later — or not at all?
It means embracing that this might be a season of deep focus. Or deep rest. Of building. Of undoing. Of learning to say no more often. Or yes more boldly.
Life in seasons is not about neglecting parts of yourself — it’s about knowing when to go all in, and when to pull back. When to sprint, and when to walk barefoot.
There’s freedom in that. Permission. Precision.
Focus isn’t neglect.
It’s devotion.
One of the biggest fears about dropping the balancing act is the guilt. If you focus on your career, are you failing your relationships? If you go deep into healing, are you neglecting ambition? The truth is, you can’t be deeply present with everything at once. But that’s not a failure — that’s focus.
And focus is a kind of devotion.
It’s saying: This matters now. This needs me now
That doesn’t mean it always will. Seasons shift. And when they do, you can shift with them — consciously, deliberately — without the chaos of rebalancing everything again.
Nature doesn’t strive for balance. It moves in cycles.
We trust nature to move in seasons. We don’t shame the trees for shedding. We don’t accuse winter of laziness. We don’t expect spring and autumn to show up simultaneously.
So why do we expect it of ourselves?
Living seasonally doesn’t mean surrendering to chaos. It means aligning your energy with the truth of where you are — and allowing the rhythms of your life to guide you, instead of trying to override them with “balance.”
Let it be a season
If this is a season of ambition, let it be.
If it’s a season of stillness, welcome it.
If it’s a season of learning, grief, growth, reinvention — lean in.
You don’t owe anyone a perfectly “balanced” version of yourself. You owe yourself honesty. And presence.
Balance might look good on paper. But presence — presence is what transforms you.
So the next time you feel the pressure to juggle it all with grace, maybe ask yourself instead:
What season am I in?
And how fully am I willing to live it?
Want more musings like this with your morning coffee? That’s kind of our thing for minds like yours and moods worth showing up for.
