Learning to Balance

Heather Daigle Xu
Gentle Persistence
Published in
4 min readJul 24, 2020

How losing our center is, perhaps, the only way to find it.

Photo by Myriam Zilles on Pixabay.

In our quest to maintain our balance, we often tend to avoid the things that will sway us off-kilter. We set boundaries. We clear the path ahead. We set out to shape our terrain in such a way where our next step is sure to find solid, stable footing.

We spend a lot of energy controlling our environment, driven by an underlying assumption that an obstacle-free path will keep us steady and allow us to perform at our best.

And this often “works” for us until we come up against something big and uncomfortable, and we lose our footing. As we topple off balance, it further solidifies our belief that, if we can ensure the path ahead is clear, we can stay surefooted, upright and steady.

But let’s talk about balance. Did you know that the foot has 28 bones, 30 joints and more than 100 muscles to help us stay balanced. And balance is enhanced by using these muscles. By experiencing and exploring different terrains. By putting them to the test. By shifting out of balance to come back into balance. To build our literal sense of balance, sometimes we need to move in ways that might throw us off balance so that these muscles get stronger. And the stronger they are, the less external obstacles can threaten our balance.

Sometimes we need to lose our balance, in order to find our balance.

Six years ago, I started walking the path of yoga. Even today, the balance poses are some of the most difficult yoga asana for me. When other people lift one foot effortlessly up into tree pose, the muscles in my grounded foot are vigorously moving and shifting to keep me balanced. I lose my steadiness more than I would like.

There are times I want to skip it all together. But then I reflect on my life: there is a tremendous difference in my physical balance since I have started my yoga practice. For example, on slick sidewalks in Chicago winters, I used to fall; now I slide a bit but remain upright. I’ve even notice a shift in my confidence when walking on uneven terrain. The balance muscles within me shape my experience of the environment outside of me.

What if, instead of striving to avoid the rocky terrain of life up ahead, we lean into it instead? What if we press into the discomfort of obstacles and let them shape and strengthen us? And what if we did so with a lightheartedness, with a sense of play, so that we are not too hard on ourselves when we do topple over?

Cultivating balance within can transform our outer experience of life.

The path to strong inner balance is not a road of never being disrupted. It’s a journey of bringing ourselves back into steadiness again and again and again. The more we regain our balance in the storms, the easier it becomes. And one day, eventually, we may find that the storms hover over us but don’t disrupt us at all.

I build my balance muscles through mindfulness, meditation and a grounding in philosophies and mental frameworks that lower reactivity and help me remain centered. This is a practice I cultivate moment by moment, with speed to market being a goal. How quickly can I bring myself back to peace whenever my peace is disrupted?

How are you cultivating your balance? Are you able to allow yourself to be thrown off your footing, so you can find it once again? Is there an opportunity let go of external control, and grab the internal reins instead?

As I discovered a peaceful life within, it was very tempting to want to walk away from my fast-paced, high-pressure corporate consulting career in exchange for a simpler way of being. Yes, there were times I wrestled with the magnitude of work and the stress that it brought. But there was also part of me that said: this is the true test.

“If you can grow your inner balance muscles here,” my inner voice said, “they will be refined. If you can lead with love, if you can radiate peace, if you can bring yourself back to center in a 60+ hour work week, amid constant travel, demanding deadlines and tough personalities, you will strengthen and refine these muscles. If you can stay balanced here, you can stay balanced no matter what life throws at you.”

And so I stayed. I expanded. I honed my balance.

While I have recently made a shift away from leadership role in corporate consulting, it wasn’t from desire to escape. Rather, it was out of a yearning to lean into a new adventure, with new terrain and a new set of challenges that will teach me more ways of balance.

And on this new adventure, I try to resist controlling the outcomes. I lean into my fears as opportunities for expansion. I step into the unknown, sometimes feeling the wind knocked out of me. And I keep bringing myself back into balance, thankful for the “muscles” that keep me upright — well, upright most of the time. For I am still seeking out the uneven ground and giving myself grace when I do tumble down.

Yearning for greater peace and balance?

Click here to download Heather’s free guide, From Burnout to Balance, and access five practices for stepping into presence.

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Heather Daigle Xu
Gentle Persistence

Management consultant turned mindfulness coach. Deep spiritual seeker, mystic and meditation guide. Moves clients from burnout into balance. @gentlepersistence