The Myth of Balance and the Seasons of Becoming

Vanessa Harris
Nov 3
4 min read

I was recently listening to Soul Gum one morning (a podcast by Victoria Hutchins that explores creativity and growth). A line she said stopped me in my tracks:

❝

“Your new life will cost you your hollow sense

of balance.”

Victoria Hutchins, Soul Gum Podcast

❞

Her words landed like a quiet challenge. They made me question how often I treat balance like an accomplishment, something to check off once I’ve achieved the perfect ratio of rest, productivity, and peace. Even within the world of wellness (a space meant to encourage presence and self-trust) I sometimes find myself pulled into the same toxic lure of perfection. The expectation to be endlessly calm. Consistently centered. Beautifully balanced.

It made me wonder: is balance really the goal, or has it simply become another impossible standard?

There’s a kind of balance we’re taught to chase. The perfectly weighted life where work, relationships, health, and joy all coexist in harmony. We’re told that once we find it, we’ll feel whole. But the longer I’ve lived, the more I’ve realized that balance, as it’s often sold to us, isn’t the destination. It’s just another impossible ask, especially for women. It becomes yet another standard to meet, another quiet pressure to be everything all at once. Soft yet strong, ambitious yet serene, productive yet well-rested.

True balance, I’ve learned, has seasons. Instead of chasing evenness, I’ve begun to notice how my life moves in distinct rhythms, each one asking for something different from me.

The Season of Rest

Victoria’s quote reminded me that our new lives (the ones we’re building on truth and purpose) will inevitably cost us the old illusions of balance.

After my divorce and the deaths of both of my parents, I entered a long and intentional period of stillness. It wasn’t glamorous or efficient. I slept more. I stayed quiet. I let the world keep spinning without me for a while.

At the time, I called it healing. Looking back, it was a sacred pause, a moment between lives. That rest wasn’t laziness or avoidance; it was a recalibration. My nervous system, my identity, and my body all needed time to remember what safety felt like.

That season taught me that rest isn’t the opposite of growth. It’s what allows growth to happen.

The Season of Challenge

When I began to feel ready again, I started saying yes to new opportunities. I followed the spark of curiosity wherever it led.

Choosing my move to Latvia was one of those yeses. I knew it would test me. I knew it would stretch me far beyond comfort. And yet, something inside me was eager for that stretch. Before leaving, I made decisions that would prepare me: training harder, refining my routines, rebuilding the confidence I had lost somewhere in the quiet.

This current chapter of my life is not balanced in the traditional sense. My days are long, my work is physical and consuming, and much of my energy goes into the people I teach and the programs I lead.

But unlike the years when I was drowning in work just to survive, this time I’m swimming with intention. My work no longer drains me, it expands me. I’m tired, yes, but in the way that feels purposeful.

The Season of Alignment

At Ayana Flow, we talk about living with awareness. Not chasing equilibrium, but learning to move with life’s natural rhythms. There are seasons for building, and seasons for softening. Seasons for connection and seasons for solitude. Each one asks for something different from us, and each one deserves to be honoured for what it is.

Balance, in this sense, is not the goal. Presence is.

❝

“Your new life will cost you the ways you waste time

and pretend it’s self-care.”

Victoria Hutchins, Soul Gum Podcast

❞

My new philosophy isn’t about doing everything at once or chasing some arbitrary illusion of “balance”; it’s about trusting the timing of my life. I no longer measure myself by how well I juggle but instead by how honestly I live within the season I’m in.

Balance, as Victoria said, may be a hollow goal because it suggests there’s a perfect ratio of effort and ease that we should all aspire to. But real life doesn’t move in ratios. It moves in rhythms.

Right now, my rhythm is about work, strength, and rest. I have less time for friends and family, less space for hobbies, fewer hours of stillness. But what I do have feels aligned. My priorities match my season.

I know that another season will come. One that invites softness again, one that draws me back home. But I no longer guilt myself for being fully in the one I’m in.

The Wisdom of Seasons

We’re not meant to live balanced lives; we’re meant to live attuned ones.

Some seasons are about expansion. Others are about repair. Each demands something different, time, focus, surrender. The art lies not in balancing them all at once but in trusting yourself enough to lean into the one you’re in, without apology.

Balance isn’t a cure-all. It’s just a concept we can allow ourselves to outgrow. What we really need is awareness. The kind that helps us notice when to move, when to rest, and when to begin again.