Not too tight, not too loose

The case for balance and contrast in life's journey

Sometimes, tight connections are necessary. In high-stakes scenarios, we want precision and exactitude, and as little slack as possible. In other moments, looseness is ideal, for flexibility and openness. But for some things in life, either extreme creates problems, and it’s a happy middle ground that often functions best.

Stephen Gilligan’s The Courage to Love coins the phrase “not too tight, not too loose” to describe the equilibrium where one’s relationship to one’s “center” is strong, but still allows for change and curiosity. He asserts that we each have three distinct selves, similar to Freud’s ego, id, and superego. Gilligan describes them as a cognitive self in the brain and behind the eyes (superego), a somatic self which deals more with the body and sensations of the gut (id), and a relational self, which interacts with others beings, the environment, as well as linking the cognitive and somatic selves (ego). One’s “center” encompasses all three of these selves.

A strong connection to our center allows life’s flow of energy to move through each of us, rather than shaking or disturbing us. It facilitates release, healing, and growth. We can live the range of human experiences while still being in touch with our core self.

As Gilligan puts it, a grip too tight manifests itself in a life of strict fundamentalism. One who constantly seeks control, abides by narrow beliefs or customs, and is closed to outside perspectives risks never addressing the complex, multilayered, often paradoxical human experience of life.

Too loose a grip, on the other hand, begets mindless consumerism. Without a healthy connection to each of our selves and thus our center, we seek pleasure, comfort, and entertainment to soothe our pains and fill our voids, in lieu of introspection and an understanding of our complicated inner world.

I’m making my way through his book, but the concept of “not too tight, not too loose” seems to be applicable to so many aspects of life. It relates to beliefs and practices around money (extreme frugality vs. compulsive spending), as well as relationships (codependency vs. hermetic isolation), and even to our own beliefs, dreams, and expectations. It’s the compromise between acceptance and improvement, between allowance and resistance.

Abraham Hicks speaks to this concept by acknowledging that we all experience “contrast.” That is, people, places, moments, and other stimuli that pull us away from our center, if only to help guide us through life. Contrast is natural and unavoidable, but returning to our center—however that is best-achieved—is how we offset the rollercoaster of contrast.

For many people, the act of centering happens through things like meditation, yoga, breathwork, experiencing flow, and working with therapists and professional healers on blockages within one or more of our selves. Without a regular centering practice, one may pinball between moods, relationships, jobs, and substance dependencies, never fully gaining a sense of balance in his or her life.

It seems to me that the best creators, inventors, and innovators of our time find a way to create from a place of centeredness. It’s a quality that I’ve begun to notice in people who seem both highly self-aware and fully tapped into life. They honor the natural seasons along with their own rhythms and patterns, and are constantly integrating with new information, while maintaining a connection to their center.

A recent episode of the Hidden Brain podcast is called “Why Trying Too Hard Can Backfire” and it reminded me of the value of contrast. While we are all familiar with the feeling of wanting something so bad, my experience is that most things come to us when we let go and stop trying. The episode’s guest is Edward Slingerland, the author of Trying Not to Try: The Art and Science of Spontaneity. I just ordered it to read.

In my own experience, being spontaneous feels frightening and unsafe. I’m a rule-follower mostly, and often find myself literally and figuratively gripping too tightly, because holding on too loosely seems like a quick way to injury, loss, etc. Lately I’ve realized that spontaneity is one way to balance out a tight grip, to let go. To relax.

In the podcast, Slingerland speaks about the value of relaxing and not focusing on something so intently when you want a particular outcome. He defines two types of cognition: hot and cold. When you’re relaxed and content, your hot cognition or subconscious mind is often pretty good at, say, playing tennis well or balancing in a yoga pose or finding creative solutions. Cold cognition, a.k.a. the conscious mind, is good at messing with your flow.

Practicing spontaneity and balancing it with centeredness is just another way of saying don’t grip too tightly and don’t grip too loosely. Be open, with boundaries.

I’m curious to know how you feel about it, if this concept resonates and which skill (spontaneity or centeredness) you have to work toward being better at in your own life.