What I Do When There Are Too Many Versions of Myself



I don’t think the big jump is just for getting us to where we want to go the fastest.

It’s also a beautifully expensive split-second where everything we do and don’t actually want, separates into either red or green. The final moment before a permanent decision arrives, details reprioritize themselves. Sometimes, that means pushing forward, and then we’re better for it--sometimes, we know in that instance to go the opposite way and we’re glad for that, too.

In the green, we finish the jump and despite the terror, we are borderless in the freefall. In the red, every fiber of our being realizes at the edge what exactly it is we’re supposed to be jumping off of instead. Either way, we know.

We meet at this intersection the version of ourselves we choose to become, and we part ways with the versions we would have become. We are as much giving as we are receiving, and that moment where sacrifice becomes a verb instead of a noun, the signposts appear. When we learn to listen, they point us straight toward balance.

To me, balance is love and love is balance. I think back on moments of growth, rest, strain, movement, change, or exploration, and in the ones with balance, love existed there too. Internally, externally, and sometimes both at the same time. In the wild. In landscapes. Natural environments where the only thing that existed was balance itself. In conversation with others, with myself, and with this body.

Sometimes, balance was accidentally enacted from the outside. Sometimes, it was through decisions of my own; intentional self-nurturing that made room for yet more balance. It even existed in most extremes, but less so in those places as time went on. 

Most of all, I think it existed where I was least involved; where the extent of my social and emotional resolutions tapered off, and my imagination didn’t interfere with the natural course of things. The places that I’ve often called coincidence, accident, and serendipity---maybe they were just balance intuitively righting itself, and in my shortness of vision, anything that was not of my plan, was of no order at all. The only order that existed was mine; intellectual, heavy, fast, and definitely not balanced. 

Balance understands that nothing is an emergency. It works toward sustainability, not deadlines. We often engage urgent mindsets over matters that are nothing close to life and death but I’ve found that all it takes is one wide-eyed moment at the edge of decisions, to create the honest headspace for sorting out what we want at our core. Always, balance comes back hand in hand with epiphanies from the big jump.