In a time of sunshine, mental energy can feel light and free.
You drive your Jeep Wrangler with the top down. You push your feet deep into the sand and remember that you love living in this place. Cool evening air flows off Lake Michigan after a long, hot day full of light. As night settles in, you catch the smell of a backyard fire and hear the faint sound of an acoustic guitar while the stars begin to show.
In Michigan, the beginning of summer is full of green, full of life, full of freedom.
You feel good – and you don’t want to let that feeling go.
But holding too tightly to something good can slowly destroy it. Like a child gripping wildflowers too tightly on the way home, what we love can be crushed by our attempt to keep it.
A couple of hours of sun can restore you. Several more can leave you burned. One beer can enhance connection. Seven can damage it. What begins as life-giving can become harmful when we lose balance.
There is a temptation in all of us to chase only what feels good-to believe we can curate a life of light fun while avoiding pain altogether. But pain doesn’t disappear when ignored. It waits. And often, it grows.
Psychologist Kristin Neff writes, “Pain times resistance equals suffering.” The more we resist discomfort, the more it intensifies.
Ancient wisdom has always pointed toward this truth. The yin-yang symbol reminds us that light and dark are not enemies-they are partners. Each contains a trace of the other. Each gives meaning to the other.
The “darkness” in this sense is not something evil. It is the quiet. It is found in reflection. It is what Carl Jung described as the shadow-the parts of ourselves we don’t fully see or understand. The emotions we avoid. the thoughts we push down. the truths we hesitate to face.
And yet, this is where growth happens.
We need both celebration and reflection. We need moments of freedom and moments of restraint. We need the ability to fully engage with joy-and the courage to sit with discomfort.
Balance is not accidental. It is practiced.
