When I look at the natural world, there’s a rhythm I can trust. Trees don’t hoard their leaves forever—they let them fall. Rivers don’t flood constantly—they rise and retreat. Even animals store food for winter but still come out to enjoy the sunshine. Everything in nature gives and takes. And in that rhythm, life is sustained.
That’s how I’m learning to think about money—less like a tightrope and more like a rhythm. I don’t need to always be saving or always be spending. I need to do both, in balance. And that balance can shift with the seasons of my life.
Sometimes I need to give—to pay bills, buy food, treat myself, help someone. Other times I need to hold back, save for what’s coming, protect what I’ve earned, create a cushion for hard times. Both are necessary. Neither one is “better.” It’s not greedy to save. It’s not careless to spend. It’s just part of living in tune with real life.
When I spend mindfully, I feel like I’m saying yes to the present. When I save with care, I feel like I’m saying yes to the future. And when I get that balance right, even just for a while, it feels like I’m in flow—not fighting money, not afraid of it, just dancing with it.
Nature doesn’t panic when it gives, and it doesn’t feel guilty when it holds back. I want to be like that. I want to trust that I can care for myself and others, enjoy life and prepare for it, give and receive—without shame, without fear.
So I’m reminding myself: balance is not perfection. It’s just presence. It’s noticing what I need, what I have, what the moment is asking for. And trusting that just like in nature, I can keep adjusting and still thrive.