A well-lived life isn’t free of tension; it’s guided by how we hold it.

Over time, I’ve come to see these tensions not as problems to solve, but as polarities to navigate and integrate. Like yin and yang, polarities only make sense in relation to each other. The work isn’t choosing one side, but learning to hold both.

In today’s post, I discuss how well I executed on my 3 polarities from 2025 and then reveal my new polarities for 2026.

Review of My 3 Polarities for 2025

Here’s my take on the polarities and how they shaped my behavior.

Horizon – Hearth

This polarity holds the tension between expansive ambition and grounded presence.

  • Horizon calls me to look outward, to pursue reinvention and adventure at this stage of life. It’s the pull of uncharted waters and the persistent question, what’s next?
  • Hearth, by contrast, centers me in home, love, and daily rituals. It reminds me to tend what’s already beautiful and sustaining in my life.

In 2025, the horizon called loudly.

I completed several meaningful trips on the water, including a 600-mile race in the Caribbean, and leaned fully into a year of movement and exploration.

At the same time, hearth mattered just as much.

We spent unhurried time with our grown children and their families by celebrating meals and simply enjoying each other’s company. That’s been a deep source of joy and grounding, providing a warm counterbalance to the pull of adventure.

What this polarity reinforced for me is the importance of answering the call that was asking to be explored.

Neglecting either side would have eventually shown up as frustration, and that’s not a message I want to model for the people I love. Living this polarity allowed me to honor both and to show that a full life makes room for more than one calling.

Overall, I’m very pleased with how the horizon – hearth polarity played out in 2025.

Slack – Flood

I’m apparently a slow learner on this one as life keeps reminding me that it isn’t meant to be a relentless push. Progress requires the rhythm of moments of intensity followed by intentional pause.

  • Slack invites me to slow down, reflect, and recharge. It’s a reminder that progress isn’t always measured by checked boxes.
  • Flood, by contrast, is about harnessing energy and moving decisively when momentum is happening.

Of the three polarities, Slack–Flood was the hardest for me to integrate.

I’ve never been particularly good at slacking, even when my body or circumstances were clearly asking for it.

Despite my intention to honor more slack, I ended up getting pneumonia and later vertigo, and both hit me hard. I can’t say with certainty what caused them, but I can no longer ignore the role that sustained stress, pace, and recovery play in shaping health.

It’s now been two years in a row where I’ve had a short-term health setback. As I continued to research what may be behind the trend, I’ve come to see illness less as a random failure of the body and more as feedback from a system that’s been pushed beyond its capacity to adapt. Long stretches of flooding like travel, adventure, physical effort, and stimulation, without sufficient slack may not directly cause illness, but they can create the internal conditions where resilience erodes and recovery lags.

Going forward, the lesson for me is not to avoid intensity, but to intentionally pair it with restoration. And not just physical restoration. I want to make sure that I’m in a mental state that’s conducive to restoration, to healing, and to keeping the energy in my body alive and flowing.

“Sense” was one of My 3 Words in 2023 and I think it also applies here, too. “Through interoception, the brain is able to sense the internal state of the body, both at a conscious and unconscious level. When you get better at sensing your body’s internal state, you get an early warning indicator when something’s not quite right.”

And the takeaway here is, I need to be even more interoceptive and pay attention to the signals my body is sending me. It’s not noise. It’s insight that needs to be processed.

One of the unexpected gifts of this polarity was shedding the guilt I often feel on days when I don’t “produce” in the way I think I should. As I write this, I’m sitting in my parents’ living room — my mom is 91 and my dad is 96 — and they’re still living independently. Watching them reminds me that health is shaped by many things including: genetics, relationships, care, and yes, a fair amount of luck.

Missing a workout or choosing rest is not failure. It’s wisdom. When I stay too long on one side of a polarity, the downside eventually makes the correction for me.

The other gift was learning to find slack inside a flood.

During several of our sailing trips, my wife and I began to savor what we called “slow mornings.” Sitting at anchor, we reveled in the simplicity of drinking coffee, making breakfast, seeing and hearing the sounds of nature waking up around us, and the gentle sway of the boat while watching the sun peek out above the horizon.

Those moments reinforced something important: life doesn’t have to be all on or all off. It can be intermittent, like windshield wipers.

By keeping Slack–Flood front and center, I’ve learned to see slacking not as laziness, but as preparation. It’s the space that allows the next flood to arrive with energy, clarity, and intention.

Control – Flow

As a planner by nature (and, if I’m honest, sometimes a control freak), this polarity challenged me to find the sweet spot between structured action and letting life unfold.

  • Control represents deliberate effort — planning, preparation, and measurable outcomes.
  • Flow, by contrast, invites me to loosen my grip, trust what’s emerging, and work with life’s natural currents rather than against them.

What surprised me this past year was how differently this polarity showed up across domains.

When it came to work, I leaned much more toward flow. Instead of my usual emphasis on detailed business planning and constant tracking, I relaxed my grip and focused on doing the work in front of me. I still paid attention to results, but without the familiar undercurrent of self-imposed pressure and frustration when things didn’t go exactly as planned.

And the outcome?

2025 ended up being my second-best year ever financially.

After forty years in this business, I’ve moved a long way from my early days of rigid planning and tracking. Today, I live somewhere between hit the numbers and que sera sera. I’m fully engaged, informed, and attentive, but less (in)tense.

By contrast, sailing told a different story.

On the water, I leaned heavily into control (well, as much as you can control when sailing!). I prepared meticulously by practicing knots, visualizing docking and maneuvers, writing checklists, and running through what could go wrong. The stakes felt real, and mistakes could carry serious consequences. The last thing I wanted was to make a preventable error and find myself making a Mayday call.

(As an aside, during a tricky point when I was at the helm on one of my sailing trips, the skipper said to me, “Steve, you’re overthinking it, stop thinking and start feeling.” So, while trying to “control” during sailing might work at times, there are other times when you have to feel your way through.)

Looking back, the pattern makes sense. In business, decades of experience gave me the confidence to relax and adjust in real time. In sailing, where I’m still early in the learning curve and the margin for error is smaller, control seemed to be the responsible choice.

The lesson for me is this: when you’re new, be disciplined. When you’re experienced, you earn the right to loosen your grip.

The old saying, “You have to know the rules before you break them,” captures it perfectly.

Experience builds a quiet reservoir of confidence, one that allows you to trust yourself, respond fluidly, and let the winds carry you forward without losing your course.

My 2026 Polarities

This year, I’ve chosen three polarities to help me stay aligned as I create, navigate, and write.

They remind me to honor the story I’m living, hold a clear direction while adapting to what unfolds, and choose language that is both clear and compelling. Rather than resolving tension, these polarities help me live inside it.

And with that in mind, here are my 3 polarities for 2026.

Mythos – Method

Mythos speaks to story, symbolism, and meaning. Method speaks to systems, process, and discipline. This polarity reflects the relationship between the story I’m living and the structures that make that story possible.

As I mentioned in last year’s polarity post, I’m drawn toward realizing dreams rather than just reading about them.

For me, mythos has nothing to do with ego or spectacle. Not, “Look at what Steve’s doing, isn’t that cool?” Rather, it’s about meaning. It’s about taking a dream and placing it into a personal narrative that gives my life texture and intention. What feels mythic to me, such as sailing around Vancouver Island, might feel ordinary to a far more seasoned sailor. Myth is always relative. It’s shaped not by comparison, but by resonance.

I’m not particularly interested in measuring my life against anyone else’s. I care about what makes me go to bed at night looking forward to getting up in the morning. Using story and narrative to place my life in context helps me stay awake to it and live deliberately rather than sleepwalking through the days.

So where does method fit?

Method provides the “how” to mythos’ “what and why.” It turns a compelling story from a mental fantasy into a lived experience. Practice, preparation, and repetition form the unglamorous work that makes a meaningful life possible.

Mythos and method need each other. Mythos without method remains an imagined future. Method without mythos becomes mechanical and sterile.

After more than sixty years on this planet, I find myself naturally looking back and searching for the arc of my story. Yes, there are clear chapters, along with moments of growth, periods of struggle and despair, and unforeseen detours. The question I wrestle with is, “What’s the throughline?” What is this story ultimately moving toward? What will still matter after the last page is turned?

With luck, there’s still much to be written! Mythos–method serves as my reminder not just to admire stories from a distance, but to consciously shape my own and live it with intention.

Compass – Wind

When human steering is too tiring, there are two common ways to steer a sailboat on a long passage: electronic autopilot and wind vane self-steering.

With an electronic autopilot, you set a compass heading, say 270 degrees, and the boat uses electricity to hold that course regardless of wind shifts. The instruction is simple and fixed: keep going west.

A wind vane works differently. Instead of steering to a compass heading, it steers to a wind angle. Set it to sail ninety degrees off the wind, and as the wind shifts, the boat subtly changes course to maintain that relationship. The direction adjusts, even though the intent remains the same.

That contrast captures this polarity for me.

Compass represents the direction I choose. Wind represents the forces I respond to along the way.

At the extremes, compass can harden into rigidity, something I’ve been accused of more than once. Wind, taken too far, becomes drift, a loss of agency in the face of changing conditions. Neither extreme leads anywhere good.

The real work lies in discerning when to hold a heading and when to adjust. When to stay committed to a plan, and when new information or unexpected resistance is begging for a course correction.

That tension defines this polarity for me.

In 2026, I want to set a clear direction while staying responsive to what unfolds. I don’t want to be so attached to a predetermined outcome that I miss the shifting wind, especially when it might carry me toward something better than I originally imagined.

Precision – Poetry

In February 2024, I stopped writing GTK, a newsletter I had written for many years for an advisor audience.

At the time, I assumed the pause would be brief. We were preparing to relocate across the country, and my schedule was full with coaching, podcasting, and ROL Advisor clients. But the pace never really slowed, and what I thought would be a one-month sabbatical quietly stretched into nearly two years of very little writing.

Regardless of how busy life becomes, 2026 is the year I return to writing.

I miss the quiet discipline of writing. The time alone with my thoughts. The effort of figuring out what I actually believe and then finding language that not only informs, but engages and activates the reader.

The precision–poetry polarity names the tension I want to live inside as I write. I care about saying things clearly, and I care about saying them beautifully. I want my work to inform without losing its capacity to transform.

I won’t be writing poetry, but I want my writing shaped by a poetic sensibility. Poetic writing says more with fewer words. It takes longer because it demands attention, compression, and restraint.

Brevity has never been my natural strength. When ThinkAdvisor edited my recent article, Why It Pays to Run Your Practice With a Human-First Approach, they cut roughly 25% of my words before publishing it. And as hard as it is to admit, the piece was better for it.

Poetic writing is denser. It invites thought rather than instruction. It evokes rather than explains. It lingers long after pure information fades.

At the same time, clarity matters. I have points of view, insights, and recommendations. I don’t want to lose my readers as I get self-indulgent and wax poetically, or make readers work too hard to understand what I’m trying to say.

That tension is the work. Clear enough to inform. Lyrical enough to transform.

Shorthand Way of Thinking About These Polarities

Here’s how I distinguish the 3 polarities.

  • Mythos – Method: Living a meaningful story while building the habits and systems that bring it to life.
  • Compass – Wind: Setting a clear direction while adapting to changing conditions along the way.
  • Precision – Poetry: Writing with clarity and accuracy while leaving room for language that moves and awakens the reader.

My 3 Polarities Tips

Here are some practical tips for doing your “My 3 Polarities” exercise:

  1. Identify Key Tensions: Reflect on areas of your life where you feel pulled between two opposing but interdependent forces (e.g., comfort vs. challenge, today vs. tomorrow, being vs. becoming, work vs. play).
  2. Choose Meaningful Pairs: Select three polarities that resonate deeply with your values and current life stage. Ensure each pair addresses a distinct aspect of your life, such as relationships, health, or work.
  3. Define Each Side: Clearly articulate what each side of the polarity represents for you, including the values and behaviors they inspire, and the upside and downside of each if taken to an extreme.
  4. Track Progress: Use a journal or weekly reflection to assess how well you’re honoring both sides of each polarity.
  5. Integrate Into Daily Life: Regularly remind yourself of the polarities and apply them to real-life choices, whether at work, home, or in personal growth. Print them or have them on your computer screen and see them daily.

Now it’s your turn. Take a first pass at your My 3 Polarities exercise for 2026 and then set it aside. Revisit the next day and see if they still feel good.

Final Thought

There’s no reason to keep this exercise a secret. Share it with your family, friends, and even your clients.

I’d love to hear what yours are so email me your polarities at ssanduski@belayadvisor.com.

Remember, fine-tuning the dynamic tension between two polarities can drastically change your life.

Let’s make 2026 a fantastic year!

P.S. The first draft of this post was 2,990 words. The final version is 2,672. That’s a cut of 11%. Trying to practice what I preach on the brevity idea!