Holding Opposing Truths by Lexie
Growing up, I was steeped in the values of doing, achieving, and productivity. My parents, like so many others, instilled this focus on action: Do the thing. Get it done. Sound familiar to any of you?
While I have worked to soften the edges of this well-intentioned conditioning, I have moments where I appreciate it. As a teenager, discipline became my anchor—a way to create structure and stability in a chaotic world. For me, discipline was, and still is, a form of self-love. It’s about honoring the promises I make to myself. It’s choosing what serves my future self over what feels good in the moment. It builds trust in myself, a foundation I can rely on as I navigate the world.
Discipline is also deeply rooted in Yoga. The Yoga Sutra of Patanjali reminds us: “Practice becomes firmly rooted when it is cultivated skillfully and continuously for a long time with devotion” (Sutra 1.14). Yoga celebrates softness, love, and flow, but at its core, it requires effort and commitment. There’s no escaping the work. You show up. You breathe. You practice.
And of course there is another side to this story. Yoga has also taught me the necessity of balance—of holding opposing truths at once. Skillful action and surrendering to the flow: it’s not about choosing one over the other; it’s about embracing the interplay of both. The magic and complexity in holding the both/and.
As silly as it sounds, I’m learning to apply discipline to the act of surrender and flow. This looks like listening instead of talking, allowing instead of directing. Creating space in my mind, my schedule, and my heart.
In art and design, “negative space” is the area around the subject of an image. It’s the quiet that lets the subject breathe. A composition feels balanced when both the subject and the surrounding space are in harmony. This is a helpful concept to me. Life isn’t just about what we do, create, or achieve; it’s also about the spaces we leave untouched. The pauses. The unsaid. The moments of stillness. The freedom to be. These feel like the places where the sacred can emerge. Or call it creativity, if you prefer a more secular word.
Rachel beautifully wrote about this same idea here last week, framed as sthira and sukha, the balance of effort and ease. It’s one of yoga’s most fundamental teachings, and it’s something we can practice on and off the mat in almost any context. It’s a lesson that shows up again and again, often when we need it most.
How do you balance effort and ease, being and doing, discipline and surrender in your life? I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments.
