Beyond the Illusion of Balance

"Balance is not something you find, it's something you create." ~ Rebekah Borucki

Balance is something many of us chase, especially when life feels overwhelming or unpredictable.

After four months of navigating the world on one leg, I’ve come to understand balance in a new way— not as a final destination, but as something we continuously return to, lose, reshape, and discover again.

Lately, I’ve been reflecting on how much of my life has been shaped by the desire to feel steady. For a long time, I thought if I did the “right” things—moved mindfully, planned ahead, stayed on top of everything—I’d eventually arrive at a balanced life. But now, I’m not so sure “there” exists in the way I once imagined.

In the past, burnout and feeling off kilter would push me to seek balance just to feel normal again. I believed there were things I could do to keep everything running smoothly, and that with enough mindful effort, I’d eventually get there—or at least stay there more often than not. But these past months have changed my relationship with that idea completely.

Is balance a destination, or is it a continuous recalibration?

This season of healing has slowed me down, sat me down, and called me into rest in ways that, at times, felt disruptive or even negligent. It stripped away the pace and patterns that made me feel productive and useful. I had to ask for help with even the smallest tasks.

At first, that felt deeply uncomfortable. Small sparks of failure arose. But eventually, space opened up. Reading, reflecting, and simply being created a different kind of rhythm. One that wasn’t about striving for more, but softening into what was already present—and allowing for movement I could both control and not control.

That quiet space led me back to something I hadn’t explored in a while: Maya.

In yogic philosophy, Maya is the veil that distorts our perception of truth. It makes us believe we are separate—from each other, from Spirit, from our wholeness. It convinces us that if we’re not constantly doing, producing, or helping, we’re somehow falling short. That balance is about control. That our value comes from what we do, not who we are.

Maya makes balance look like perfection—smooth, uninterrupted, and predictable.

But what if that version of balance is the illusion itself?

What if balance lives in the shifting, the stumbling, the remembering?

Healing doesn’t always look or feel like progress. Sometimes, it looks like waiting. Sometimes, it shows up as disruption to well-oiled routines. Sometimes, it feels like doubt, uncertainty, or frustration.

And maybe, just maybe, imbalance is part of the path to balance.

So now, when I think of balance, I picture adaptability. I picture moments that are messy and soft, still and fiery, clear and confusing. I take comfort in knowing that it’s okay to lose center, because I know I’ll find it again. Not through control, but through trust. Through remembering that I am always recalibrating.

If your vision ever feels clouded, come back to gentle awareness by asking yourself:
What am I believing about myself right now that may not be true?

You don’t have to try to be balanced.

You are always arriving there.

With love and gratitude,
Dana Andrea