The truth of balance.
Photo by Alexander Mils on Unsplash
People talk about balance as if it’s something that happens by accident, like good weather. It isn’t. It’s deliberate. I treat balance the same way I treat work - with focus, routine, and a touch of stubbornness.
I like what I do. I like being good at it. But business is only one of my jobs. The others: being a husband, a father, a friend, a learner, a bloke who occasionally burns dinner - matter just as much. Without them, the work would be meaningless anyway.
Dinner with the family is non-negotiable. Every night. No excuses. No phones. Real conversation, even if it’s about nothing much. Once a week I get on the bike, whatever the weather. Riding into a headwind has a way of fixing perspective. And before bed, one episode and a cup of tea with my wife. No screens, no scrolling, just together, half dead from the day.
"If you seek tranquillity, do less. Or rather, do what’s essential." - Marcus Aurelius
That line should be printed on every office door. The world is full of people doing everything except what matters. They confuse movement for momentum, Working until they forget what they’re working for. The irony is, the people who appear the most driven are often the least in control.
I’m not allergic to ambition. I like pressure. I like solving difficult problems and seeing them bloom. But I’ve also learned that running flat-out without space to think isn’t success but rather self-sabotage.
Ryan Holiday calls it “stillness.”
Seneca described it as a “well-ordered mind.”
To me, it’s common sense. If you can’t sit still with yourself, you’ll never get anything worthwhile done.
Business runs on noise. Meetings, calls, messages, half-urgent emails about things that won’t matter in a week. But the important stuff: the creative, strategic, interesting stuff, is done when the noise stops. As Naval Ravikant ( and several of my wise mentors) said,
"The goal is not to be successful. The goal is to be free.”
For me, freedom isn’t some beach in retirement; it’s the ability to walk away from the nonsense now - I just don't have enough heartbeats left to waste on bullshit.
I like people. I like building things with them, hearing their dreams and trying to help them get there. But I don’t need to be adored for it. There’s a difference between liking people and needing their approval.
I’ve reached the point where unspoken competence matters more than applause.
“If a person gave your body to any stranger they met on the way, you’d be furious. Yet you hand over your mind to anyone who comes along.” - Epictetus
Perhaps Epictetus had it nailed? That’s what most people do every day hand over their attention, their calm, their time for hope. I keep mine.
Rarely do my moments of vivid insight, or creativity appear whilst sat at a desk, listening to a meeting where people talk but say little. The best ideas I’ve had turned up while chatting with a peer over beer, riding at speed down the side of a mountain ( more so when I stopped, but still) , or sitting with tea watching nothing happen.
We should all heed the warning of Seneca:
“The greatest obstacle to living is expectancy, which hangs upon tomorrow and loses today.”
I focus on balancing with intent because I’m trying to stay sharp. I’ve stopped living for tomorrow. I’d rather enjoy the tea whilst its still warm.
You can’t think straight if you’re always reacting.
Business is one of my jobs. Life is the rest of them. I take both seriously. And if success ever costs my balance, it isn’t really success. It’s just better-paid chaos.