Living the Both/And: Where Being and Becoming Finally Become One

You don't have to choose. You never did. The both/and was always there, waiting to be honored.

Part 7 of 7 in The Stability-Growth Paradox Series

There's a moment in every transition when you realize: This isn't going to resolve.

Not neatly. Not permanently. Not in the way you hoped.

The tension between stability and growth? It's not going away.
The pull between being and becoming? It's built into the human experience.
The choice between roots and wings? You need both. Always.

For years, I thought the goal was to find the perfect balance—that magical point where everything stabilizes and I could finally relax into having it all figured out.

But after seven blogs, 20 moves, launching a business, watching my son get married, supporting my husband through retirement, and discovering raccoons in my attic—I've learned something:

This isn't a tension to resolve. It's a paradox to honor.

And once you stop trying to fix it and start learning to live it, you find your footing—even on shifting ground.

The Journey Through the Paradox

When I started this series, I shared a moment from a Heroic Tucson workshop that crystallized something I'd been wrestling with for years.

Two successful businessmen, sitting in a goal-setting exercise, essentially said the same thing: "I'm satisfied with my life. I can't think of any area where I want to set goals. I feel like I've arrived."

And I had two simultaneous reactions: Good for them and I can't imagine ever feeling that way.

In "The Tension We All Live," I named it: This tension between stability and growth lives in all of us. We keep trying to choose sides—contentment or ambition, staying or going, arrival or becoming. But what if we're not supposed to choose?

In "Roots and Wings," I discovered: Identity can be portable. You don't have to choose between staying grounded and being free to grow. You can build internal anchors that travel with you.

In "The Stability Paradox," I learned: Sometimes the safest choice is the terrifying one. Sometimes staying is the riskiest thing you can do. Growth—when it's aligned—is more stable than false comfort.

In "Building on Shifting Ground," I faced: You can't wait for external stability to show up. You have to build internal structure that holds regardless of chaos. Even when the mice turn out to be raccoons.

In "The Growth Trap," I confronted: The same discipline that grounds you can trap you. Not all optimization is healthy. Recovery is growth. And you're already enough.

In "What You Keep, What You Release," I practiced: Distinguishing scaffolding from structure. Letting go of old identities that served a season. Keeping what's essential and releasing what's limiting.

And now, looking back at the whole journey, I see it:

Every single one of these isn't a problem to solve. It's a paradox to live.

The Problem with Either/Or Thinking

We're conditioned to think in binaries:

Stability OR growth.
Being OR becoming.
Roots OR wings.
Discipline OR rest.
Holding on OR letting go.
Safety OR risk.

Pick one. Commit. Stay there.

But life doesn't work that way.

Because the truth is: You need both. Not sequentially—"I'll do stability for a while, then switch to growth." But simultaneously. At the same time. In the same breath.

You need roots AND wings.
You need to be AND become.
You need to hold what's essential AND release what's limiting.
You need discipline AND rest.
You need to build structure AND stay flexible.

That's the paradox.

And the moment you try to collapse it into either/or, you lose something vital.

What Living the Both/And Actually Looks Like

This isn't theoretical for me. I'm living it right now.

Dave retires in weeks. We don't know if we're staying in Arizona or moving. Our future is uncertain.

And: I'm building Soul Force Strategies. I'm leading Heroic Tucson. I'm showing up for my work, my community, my growth.

I'm releasing old identities—"just a mom," "military spouse," "people pleaser."

And: I'm honoring what those roles taught me. I'm carrying forward the capacity they built in me.

I'm practicing protocols, hitting targets, optimizing for growth.

And: I'm giving myself permission to rest, to release Christmas perfection, to protect my capacity.

I'm building internal anchors that hold through chaos.

And: I'm staying open to what emerges, flexible enough to adapt when the ground shifts again.

I'm grieving the sweet ache of my son's new marriage changing our relationship.

And: I'm celebrating the freedom to finally follow my own dreams.

This is the both/and.

Not choosing one or the other. Not oscillating between extremes. But holding both at once, in dynamic tension, always recalibrating.

Soul Force: The Integration of Paradox

Here's what I'm learning: When you stop trying to resolve the paradox and start living it, something new emerges.

I call it Soul Force.

Not force as in aggression or pushing. Force as in power. Strength. Presence. The kind of grounded energy that comes from being fully aligned with who you are and who you're becoming—at the same time.

Soul Force is what happens when:

• You're deeply rooted in your values AND fully open to growth

• You honor your need for stability AND your hunger for expansion

• You build structure that holds you AND stay flexible enough to adapt

• You practice discipline that grounds you AND give yourself grace when you need rest

• You know what's essential AND release what's limiting

• You show up as you are AND keep becoming who you're meant to be

It's not one or the other. It's the integration of both.

And it's not something you achieve once and then maintain. It's something you practice, moment by moment, recalibrating as life shifts.

The Practice of Dynamic Balance

Living the both/and isn't about finding the perfect middle point and staying there.

It's about dynamic balance—constantly adjusting, recalibrating, listening to what you need right now.

Some seasons require more stability. You need to consolidate, integrate, recover, build roots. That's not stagnation. That's wisdom.

Some seasons require more growth. You need to stretch, risk, expand, spread wings. That's not recklessness. That's courage.

And most seasons? They require both. At the same time. In different areas of your life.

Right now, I need stability in my daily protocols—they're what keep me grounded through chaos.
And I need growth in my business and leadership—this is my season to expand.

I need to honor Dave's transition and support his uncertainty.
And I need to claim space for my own dreams without apology.

I need to hold what's essential about who I am.
And I need to release identities that no longer serve who I'm becoming.

The balance isn't static. It's alive. Moving. Responsive.

And the practice is learning to feel the difference—learning to recognize what you need in any given moment and having the courage to honor that, even when it's paradoxical.

The Questions That Guide the Practice

So how do you actually live this? How do you practice the both/and when everything in you wants the clarity of either/or?

I keep coming back to these questions:

What does my soul need right now—stability or growth?
Not what I think I should need. What do I actually need? And can I trust that?

Where am I trying to resolve a paradox that's meant to be honored?
Where am I forcing an either/or choice when the truth is both/and?

Am I building from my centerline—that grounded, aligned place inside—or am I performing?
Is this choice coming from my authentic self or from fear, comparison, people-pleasing?

What would it look like to hold both sides of this tension at once?
Can I be rooted AND free? Disciplined AND resting? Grieving AND celebrating? Being AND becoming?

What's the next right thing—not six months from now, but right now?
In this moment, what's the most aligned choice I can make?

These questions don't give me perfect answers. But they keep me honest. They keep me present. They keep me from collapsing into false certainty when what I actually need is to live the tension.

Where Being and Becoming Finally Become One

Here's the truth I'm finally starting to understand:

Being and becoming aren't opposites. They're not two ends of a spectrum where you have to choose your position.

They're the same thing.

You are always both being and becoming.

You're already whole—complete, enough, valuable exactly as you are right now.
And you're always in the process of becoming—growing, evolving, expanding into the next version of yourself.

You don't have to wait until you "arrive" to be enough.
You don't have to stay static to honor who you are.

You can be fully present in who you are today—grounded, accepting, at peace with yourself.
And you can be actively becoming who you're meant to be tomorrow—stretching, growing, reaching.

That's not a contradiction. That's the human experience.

That's Soul Force.

What I'm Carrying Forward

As I stand on the edge of this transition—Dave's retirement, our uncertain future, my own evolution—here's what I know:

I don't need to have it figured out.
I don't need to resolve the paradox.
I don't need perfect balance.

I need to keep practicing.

Practicing the both/and.
Practicing dynamic recalibration.
Practicing being and becoming at the same time.

Trusting that my internal anchors will hold—my values, my identity, my capacity—wherever we land.

And staying open to what emerges—the growth, the expansion, the dreams I'm finally claiming—as the ground keeps shifting beneath me.

This is the work. Not finding stability once and for all. Not optimizing growth forever. But learning to live in the tension, honoring the paradox, integrating being and becoming into something that feels like Soul Force.

Where I'm fully myself. And fully in the process of becoming.

At the same time.

Without contradiction.

Your Turn: Living Your Own Both/And

Maybe you're standing at your own crossroads right now.

Wanting stability but craving growth.
Needing roots but longing for wings.
Trying to honor who you are while becoming who you're meant to be.

Feeling torn between holding on and letting go.
Between discipline and rest.
Between being enough and striving for more.

Here's what I want you to know:

You don't have to choose.

The tension isn't a problem. It's not a sign you're doing something wrong. It's not evidence that you're confused or indecisive or failing.

It's the human experience.

And the practice—the lifelong practice—is learning to hold both at once.

To be grounded AND free.
To rest AND grow.
To honor who you are AND who you're becoming.
To build stability that travels with you AND stay open to what emerges.

This is Soul Force.

Not the elimination of tension. But the integration of paradox.

Not the arrival at perfect balance. But the practice of dynamic recalibration.

Not the resolution of being vs. becoming. But the honoring of both/and.

Start here:

What paradox are you trying to resolve that might be meant to honor instead?

Where are you forcing an either/or choice when the truth might be both/and?

What would it look like to hold both sides of your tension at once—without collapsing into false certainty?

What does your soul need right now—and can you trust that, even when it's paradoxical?

You don't need to have it figured out.

You just need to keep practicing.

And trust that being and becoming—stability and growth, roots and wings—can finally become one.

Thank you for walking through this series with me. For sitting with the questions. For honoring your own paradoxes. For choosing to live the both/and.

This isn't the end of the exploration. It's just the beginning of living it.