Balance & Boundaries: A Juggling Act
June 15, 2025 | Issue #11 | Juggling Act
In this week's edition we’ll unpack:
Balance & Boundaries— How pausing to question what we’re blindly carrying can free us from the circus of perfectionism.
Aristotle’s Eudaimonia—True happiness, according to Aristotle, isn’t found in fleeting pleasures but in living with purpose, virtue, and self-mastery.
The “Pause & Prioritize” Check-In— A simple method to help you drop what drains you and double‑down on what truly matters.
May these words find you well…
“No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it’s not the same river and he’s not the same man.”
Balance & Boundaries: A Juggling Act
Nothing in life is 100% satisfaction guaranteed—and that’s one of the many reasons it’s worth living.
One moment we feel on top of it all: a master of our small universe, juggling effortlessly while riding a unicycle on a tightrope. But then—amid the roar of the crowd and jarring circus music—a voice cuts through:
“Those aren’t bowling pins you’re juggling!”
So focused on keeping my balance, eyes glued to the few inches of rope ahead, I never thought to look up. Never thought to ask, “What am I juggling? Why am I even juggling? And who set this whole act in motion?”
Poof.
And like the waves gently lapping the shore—or the deep, unseen currents that shape the ocean floor—there’s so much more behind our movements than we realize. Some shifts come in swiftly, loud and undeniable: a sudden change, a closed door, a sharp turn. But others drift in unnoticed. They reshape us silently, quietly rearranging our insides.
In The Temple of the Golden Pavilion, Yukio Mishima tells the story of a young man consumed by the illusion of beauty and perfection. His fixation with an ideal—something polished, permanent, untouchable—slowly erodes his sense of self. As he questions everything he’s ever believed in, his inner world becomes unrecognizable. He’s left wondering whether the things we admire, even worship, are actually cages in disguise.
“If the world changed, I could not exist, and if I changed, the world could not exist”
― Yukio Mishima, The Temple of the Golden Pavilion
The book continues on with the protagonist’s obsession with the temple’s beauty, which becomes a mirror for his own inner chaos.
The temple is perfect, still, revered—everything he feels he is not. As his identity fractures beneath the weight of this impossible ideal, we’re reminded how often we measure our worth against constructed images—be it success, balance, or perfection. The novel quietly exposes the danger in that pursuit: when we chase illusions without questioning them, we risk becoming estranged from ourselves. And sometimes, the destruction we fear isn’t meant for the world around us—it’s meant to break open the illusion so something more honest can rise in its place.
“It seemed that hell could appear day or night, at any time, at any place, simply in response to one's thoughts or wishes. It seemed that we could summon it at our pleasure and that instantly it would appear.”
― Yukio Mishima, The Temple of the Golden Pavilion
That’s the thing about balance—it isn’t always about keeping steady, staying perfect and zen. Sometimes it’s about knowing when to stop juggling, when to look up, and when to walk away from the performance entirely.
Fun Takeaway: At some point, we all find ourselves juggling something—ideas of who we should be, roles we didn’t consciously choose, standards that never quite fit. We keep trying to keep the act going without dropping anything. But the real balancing act isn’t about performance—it’s about presence. It’s the quiet courage to pause, to question what we’re carrying, and to let go of what no longer feels true. Maybe that’s where the real beauty lives: not in the flawless illusion, but in the honest, evolving self beneath it all.
Father’s Day Note: We tip our hat to the dads and father-figures who’ve mastered their own tightropes—often keeping the show going for everyone else before noticing their own pins have fallen. To the ones who taught us how to steady our wobbling steps, who showed that strength isn’t about never faltering but about rising again with more grace. May you pause today, drop the weight you no longer need to bear, and feel celebrated for every juggling act you’ve ever performed.
Philosophy of the Week:
Eudaimonia (Flourishing) – Aristotle
Pronounced: you-die-MOH-nee-uh (or less formally, you-day-MOH-nee-uh)
Eudaimonia is often translated as flourishing or the goods life, but it’s much deeper than just feeling happy or successful.
Aristotle believed that the highest purpose of human life wasn’t pleasure, wealth, or status—but to live in accordance with reason and virtue over a lifetime. He saw eudaimonia as the result of developing our character, making wise choices, and living in a way that aligns with our deepest human nature.
To flourish, in Aristotle’s view, meant engaging in meaningful actions, contributing to the well-being of others, practicing moderation, and striving to become the best version of ourselves—not just once, but consistently over time.
Eudaimonia is about more than just being happy, it’s about living well, growing into who you’re meant to be, and doing it with integrity. It’s a kind of quiet, lasting fulfillment that comes from living with purpose, making thoughtful choices, and showing up fully in your life.
Day2Day Survival Tip:
The “Pause & Prioritize” Check‑In
Each morning (or whenever you hit a midday slump), take 2–3 minutes to do this simple exercise:
List Your Juggles
On a scrap of paper or in your notes app on your phone, jot down the three main things you’re currently “juggling” — projects, roles, worries, habits, etc.Name Their Purpose
Next to each item, write one line about why you’re carrying it. What’s its real value to you?Drop or Double‑Down
Look at that list and ask:
* Does this still serve me today?
* Is it aligned with who I want to become?If an item feels out of sync, cross it out—drop it for now. If it still matters, circle it—give it your full focus.
By consciously “dropping” what no longer fits, you clear mental space and reinforce real priorities. It’s a mini-break from the unspoken circus act, reminding you that balance isn’t about doing more—it’s about choosing wisely.
Words Of Wisdom:
To close us out, here’s a glimpse—paraphrased—from The Temple of the Golden Pavilion, the scene where Mizoguchi watches the Pavilion’s reflection in the still pond, and everything he thought permanent shimmers with uncertainty:
“As he stands at the water’s edge, the Pavilion’s golden image quivers on the surface—a perfect form made fragile by a single ripple. In that moment, Mizoguchi senses that even the most unchanging beauty can tremble, that our ideals, like light on water, shift with the smallest disturbance. It’s a reminder that what we cling to as solid might be more delicate than we imagine—and that true strength comes from embracing that impermanence.”
May this reflection encourage you to welcome life’s ripples—and find steadiness in the dance between change and beauty.
P.S..
If you couldn’t tell, the book for June has been The Temple of the Golden Pavilion by Yukio Mishima—a novel I happened to stumble upon. Only later did I find out the author's interesting past. Which you can read here.
