Dual Nature

Saying that everything is life might sound strange—or even cliché for some. But as I look around the room, a part of me knows it with certainty.

Another, more practical part of me knows that the lamp standing on the side table is made of glass. Its edges are distinct against the cream wall and dark wood table. I can tell, and even imagine without getting up, that if I touch the lamp, it will feel smooth and cool under my fingertips. Without trying, I know with certainty that pushing it beyond the edge will make it fall. And, like most glass objects hitting a hard surface, it will likely break.

We can tell the story of many things in this world because things follow certain rules. We learn about some of these rules at school and through experience. They give us a sense of predictability—safety, even—by helping us know how things might play out. At least, so we think.

This is the physical realm. One of the two I will explore.

Characteristics of the Physical Realm

The physical realm is what we experience as tangible reality. It’s the manifest, the explicit—the part of life that takes form.

Everything here is distinct, with clear boundaries—your body, a tree, a table, the house you live in. Where there is a definition, there is also separation. An object with its distinct edges, automatically becomes “something else” from another form. You can tell the difference. These things all exist in time as individual entities, occupying space.

Observing the energetic boundaries of various people helped me understand this well enough to explain.

In the physical world, things appear isolated and unrelated. The physical world gives us structure and containment and it is the realm where things come into existence, where ideas take shape in tangible form.

I will also refer to this realm and type of energies as Yang energy, relative to Yin, which I will discuss as the non-physical realm.

Energy

The world of form is the densest layer of energy—the most concentrated and unyielding. Once set, it tends to be stable and slow to change.

In simple terms, you shouldn’t expect the wall to disappear as you walk towards it.

Rules of the Physical Realm

When the idea for this chapter dawned on me, I remember that it blew my mind. So simple! And yet so powerful. Like a key that unlocks many, many riddles of sensitivity you didn’t think you could ever ask about.

One thing became clear to me: The entry to understanding these two realms lies in understanding the rules that they operate on. What also emerged was that these rules are completely opposite—yet complementary.

When you start seeing this play out in the world around you, you cannot unsee it.

The physical realm operates on mechanistic, predictable rules. Newtonian physics, the laws of gravity, and principles of force and motion define how things behave in this reality.

• Objects remain separate. Everything has edges and boundaries. A chair is a chair, and a person is distinct from their surroundings.

• Physical senses dominate. We rely on sight, touch, sound, taste, and smell to interact with the world.

• Causality is linear. Actions lead to predictable outcomes—if you push something, it moves; if you drop it, it falls.

• Energy moves through force. Physical effort is required to make things happen. You lift, push, or pull to create movement. Push too hard, and something breaks, bends, or resists.

• Form and function are central. A thing’s structure defines its purpose. A bridge holds weight, a container holds liquid, a house provides shelter.

This realm is the world of action, stability, and measurable experience. The organising rules of Yang are linear and logical.

For all the above reasons, people refer to the physical world as "objective reality."

Even though each of us experiences it subjectively, we can still agree on many common facts. Modern science has taken this further, making this world more measurable than ever.

We interact with this realm using our senses. These include our five senses and the sense of space and posture, allowing us to orient our bodies in the environment and differentiate ourselves from other people and objects.

All of these help us meet and perceive what we call reality and distinguish one thing from another. Our senses and our bodies allow us to know our distance and spatial relationship to other forms (objects and people) and our different parts.

We can coordinate movements and interactions so that we can scratch an ear without having to look in the mirror, dance with our eyes closed, or estimate the opening of a doorframe as we walk from the living room into the kitchen.

That is why this explicit reality is a realm of relative permanence and reliability, and because of its appearance, most people can agree on it. That’s why we see it as a fixed point of reference. It’s what allows us to say things like:

“Turn right at the corner, right behind the big red brick building with a chicken neon sign.”

Not just buildings—but also people, news, places, and events—all serve as structures in our lives. I call them structures because we orient ourselves in relation to them—both physically and mentally.

This structured nature is also what allows us to build, create, and navigate the world with consistency. Without this stability, life would feel chaotic, lacking the grounding that enables us to take meaningful action.

In this world, each separate part moves independently, following its own predictable patterns.

But with form comes ownership. And competition.

Where there is a separate ME, there is also MINE.

And with that comes limitation and scarcity.

I speak about the organising rules because they will point out differences in the ways we act, think, and believe.

No person or a thing is 100% masculine or feminine. Everything is based on the context. We may operate in either of or a mixed way at any given time. And it’s important to note that none of these ways is better than the other. Both are two sides of the same coin. But people may skew towards one tendency over the other.

And so, people who lean towards one of the realms behave according to completely different values than those who follow the other—often misunderstood by the “opposing” camp. Many things such as miscommunications and judgments start making more sense when you see which operating system is currently playing out through a person. (I see how you could also easily match Mayers Briggs personality types on a spectrum between these two extremes with the introverted intuitive feelers being furthest from the material dimension, and most at the non-physical side.)

Consciousness in the Yang Mode

When we behave in a Yang way (symbolically masculine), it’s all about making things happen. It’s the energy that turns ideas into reality, movement into results. It’s the force behind action, structure, and logic—the kind of thinking that builds cities, plans schedules, and sets goals.

People who habitually operate in this realm tend to be proactive, focused, efficient, and practical. They excel at organising, structuring, and working with clear objectives. If it can be measured, built, or planned, they’re likely the ones leading the way.

Most people live primarily in the Yang realm, focusing on tangible realities rather than subtle energies.

When someone is in Yang mode, they focus on what’s visible, obvious, and actionable. On good days, they can be very supportive and solution-oriented. Yang energy is typically associated with assertiveness, extraversion, action, and rationality.

These people have much better boundaries than their less grounded fellows. Operating on the rules of the material reality people have no problem saying NO to things they don’t want and YES to those they do want. As they’re born in such a way and continue interacting with the dimension with firm edges rather than some “wishy-washy ideas”, their aura and energetic boundaries are naturally developed to represent that.

Like all things, it has an extreme side. This isn't simply the ‘bad’ side of Yang—though it may appear that way from our perspective. In the realm of energies, disharmony arises from excess, a principle that Chinese cosmology has emphasised for thousands of years. In this case, the imbalance stems from an excess of Yang.

Here the energetic boundaries can again explain a lot. When Yang energy is overemphasised, it can turn into aggression, entitlement, and competition at the expense of connection. A mind under excessive masculine influence seeks to dominate. It’s about me and mine. We can see it in people when this masculine energy in excess creates an "us vs. them" mentality, seeing others as obstacles and enemies.

This happens because when you believe you’re alone and separate, it feels scary. It makes people act as if that’s them against the whole unpredictable world. It’s the frightened person that feels the need to attack and hold a tight grip to maintain an illusion of order.

Because it’s about tangibility and a surface level, this energy in people is also about status—the need to be right, to be seen, to matter. (Quite literally—pun intended.) It is about matter so it might become obsessed with accumulation of goods and resources, production, survival, and control.

People who are excessively Yang may tend to judge others by surface qualities—how they look, what they own, and how they present themselves. At the extreme, they may become so disconnected that they objectify people and lack compassion. In the habit of overprotection, it might harden so much that it's numbed from any feeling.

We see this energy very active in the modern world, which prioritises assertion, productivity, and external achievement over more subtle, creative, undefined, and intuitive ways of being. While too much Yang energy can lead to imbalance, its constructive side gives us ambition, discipline, and the ability to shape the world around us.

Tangible reality with its daily pressures and loud tone makes compelling evidence that it’s all that there is. But while I am too affected by all these manifestations and lose myself in the daily troubles, I try to remember that this is only a tip of an iceberg. That there’s so much more at work than what I can see.

Things in our physical world seem disjointed and uncommunicative, but we know now that this is not the whole story.

Everything we experience in life is more than it appears to be. Some things we can see, touch, and measure—the physical world that is structured, solid, and predictable. But beneath it, beyond it, interwoven through it, there is another reality. The realm of the unseen, the energetic. The intangible realm.

Characteristics of The Intangible Realm

This is the Yin, feminine counterpart to the physical world’s Yang.

It’s “the woman behind the man”.

While in the material reality, there are things we can agree upon, here is where we enter a subjective and spiritual experience of life.

It’s where energies exist before they take shape.

If the material realm is a finished structure of a house, Yin is a psychic one. It is the architect's vision—the space where ideas, feelings, and possibilities first arise. It is also the collection of stories and inspirations that have been inspiring the young man to even become the architect. This energetic, spiritual dimension is the collective myth of a master builder and a visionary, the genius and the artist, all confluence into an archetype that sparked within that man long before the building’s design even came to his mind. Maybe this building had been growing in him since he was born.

Yin is the energy that makes form possible.

If the physical layer is experienced through our five senses, this realm is more often linked to ideas, inspiration, intuitive feelings, inklings, emotions, and dreams.

Even when we forget about it, we all float in a soup of information that’s non-local and unconstrained. When we close our eyes we can feel that it reaches far back into the void before the world creation and extends far into the future, beyond time, culture, or any other limitations.

We often dismiss this realm because it isn’t as tangible as bricks and mortar. The world designed on left-brain logical thinking has no room for intangibles.

But this field of reality is the foundation of everything we can experience or know.

The emotions we pick up on, the ideas that seem to ‘arrive’ fully formed in our minds, the ancient symbols that stir something deep within us—these are all ways we interact with the intangible.

This network of invisible connection links us all to a deeper intelligence, much like mycelium connects trees and plants through an underground web of a continuous energetic exchange.

Ancient traditions never separated the physical from the unseen. Indigenous cultures understood that land carries memory. Eastern philosophies describe Qi (life force) as an invisible current running through all things.

It is not less real. It is simply less obvious.

We move through this realm every day, whether we realise it or not. It’s in the moment we sense the atmosphere in a room before anyone speaks. It’s in the way a place can feel warm and inviting or heavy with unspoken tension. It’s in the emotions that pass between people like currents, even when no words are exchanged. And it’s in the stories, symbols, and archetypes that have echoed across cultures for centuries, shaping the way we understand the world without us even realising.

In this view, it represents the “unmanifest” or “implicit” side of reality—things that are not immediately visible or explicit but hold the seeds of creation and transformation.

Energy

Energy in this realm is malleable, flexible, adapting, and exchanging. It’s yielding, but not because it's weak. It has a profound effect, influencing everything—just like raising feelings of injustice in a country can lead to rebellion and a total upturn.

Rules of the Intangible Realm

The implicit is the realm of unity, where we’re all made out of the same fabric. Unlike the physical realm, this level of existence is fluid, interconnected, and often below the surface of conscious thought.

Although nothing in our world is 100% Yin or Yang, this implicit realm at the purest way tells us that:

• There is no matter and no form—everything is connected.

• There are no boundaries—everything is fluid and in flux, always influencing one another.

• It is non-linear & abstract. The Yin realm doesn’t obey linear time or cause-and-effect logic. Here, things happen through meaningful connections, not chronology.

• It is unbound by space and unlimited in reach.

In this realm, the implicit, unseen forces of life hold sway. Boundaries dissolve, and a sense of oneness prevails.

While in material reality, time is linear, here everything happens simultaneously. Time doesn’t hold.

This is when a violinist is flowing, merged with her violin in a timeless state, immersed and connected as she plays. She’s lost her sense of self, and all that exists is this fusion of energy and music that draws others into its vortex, dissolving egos and limitations as they follow the feeling. At this moment, everything seems possible; all worries of the day dissolve into sound.

Here, boundaries blur. Things do not have hard edges because they exist in the realm of potentials, ideas, intentions, emotions, symbols, mythologies, archetypes, and meanings.

If the physical world separates, this world connects.

And if everything is connected, there is no ME or MINE.

There is no ownership because if there’s no form, there is no lack of it. For the same reason, there is no fear or scarcity.

Science is Catching Up

Quantum physics is now beginning to hint at what mystics always knew—that reality is not as solid as it seems, and that observation itself influences what unfolds.

Not even the hardest of substances can break the rules of intangibles. A quantum scientist looking deep into a piece of iron sees its unyielding structure dissolve into a dance of particles. At the atomic level, iron is composed of tiny nuclei surrounded by electrons that are constantly moving, vibrating, and exchanging energy.

In fact, everything is made out of the same energy, as the scientists now say. So, although there is You and Me, there is mostly Us.

What might have once been dismissed as imagination or delusion is now being proven real. The discoveries of quantum mechanics demonstrate that reality operates according to an entirely different set of laws at the most fundamental level.

Consciousness in the Intangible Realm

Now, let’s see how consciousness would appear following a non-physical set of rules.

When one is in a feminine consciousness, so to speak, they often display characteristics that manifest as receptive, imaginative, non-linear, creative, and often empathic.

Most people live firmly in the physical realm, relying on logical left-brain thinking and hard evidence. Many even discredit everything that’s subtle and not immediately logical or obvious. Others, though, feel more comfortable and embody the rules of the feminine, spiritual realm of unity and potential.

They navigate this realm with relative ease. Artists, healers, philosophers, inventors, and intuitive thinkers—those who don’t just refer to what exists but perceive what could be—draw from the realm of the intangible. Children are very attuned to intangible dimensions, with their rich imagination, openness, and unbiased minds.

People who thrive on abstract ideas and metaphorical thinking notice connections and relationships where others don’t.

For them, psychic insights—such as knowing something about a person that has never been shared, or even perceiving how things might play out in the future—seem like a normal part of life. Yet, more direct people may consider this "out there."

Intuitive and feeling people, like water, move fluidly around places, adapting, shapeshifting, and flexing. They are often more introverted, observant and have little need to be right or dictate the rules of the game. They observe and relate to the structures around them.

They don’t use force, but they create a profound influence.

An artist sublimates emotions into a painting, just as a programmer transforms code into a functional website.

Although this is a feminine energy (Yin), one doesn't have to be a woman to bring forth life. In fact, the universe is constantly creating through us all.

What may be challenging is that these individuals are tuned into multiple layers without always realising it—constantly receiving information beyond physical cognition. This process seems to be mediated by the unconscious mind and their open system (more on that soon).

Can you see the resemblance to what a large number of sensitive people experience?

People who naturally lean towards the intangible rules must be sensitive and open to attune to these subtler energies, because these energies are finer and speak more quietly.

Sensitives read between the lines, feel the unspoken direction of words, and see patterns across layers of reality. They experience life beyond the obvious. To them, meaning, stories, and ideas permeate everything. It may be hard for them to explain how they know what they know or where their conviction about a situation comes from.

A conversation is never just words; it’s tone, energy, emotion, unspoken dynamics, and intuitive perception. A room is not just four walls and furniture but also the light, the ambiance, and its overall presence.

Highly sensitive people are often deeply attuned to this realm. They can feel the energetic undercurrents in a room, sense shifts in relationships before anything is said, and pick up on the invisible dynamics most people miss.

When you’re in that interconnected state, you’re much more likely to treat others equally. This is why many sensitive people see hierarchy as a foreign concept. They might be acutely aware of disharmony or imbalances in emotional exchanges. 

Intuitive and other "meta" (beyond) people are often idealistic, egalitarian, and non-judgmental towards others. After all, they see beyond boundaries and separation. Feeling this connection as a thread—even unconsciously—naturally inclines them towards greater compassion. Seeing the potential in everything often instills faith where others feel hopeless.

Like in the Yang side, there are also unhealthy expressions of floating too far into the intangible dimension. Excessive, and unbalanced Yin consciousness, makes people live in their minds. Ideas, abstractions, and reflection dominate preoccupations of sensitive people. Those who lean too far in this direction can lose touch with the world.

Another frequent source of their challenges comes form falling into a fantasy mindset and believing in things that exist only in their imagination. One way this plays out is that they may cling to the potential idea of people or projects overlooking the “evidence” and real feedback. This might result in offering energy to these avenues long past the point of worthwhile investment.

Living in their minds, excessively Yin individuals—at least to an extent—neglect their physical body. By extension they might overlook themes of money. Altogether, a tendency might be to avoid or struggle with material affairs because the world of matter is hard for them to navigate. This is a huge subject I will discuss at length later.

Again, it’s important to talk about their boundaries. Born into this tendency, people who naturally favour interconnectedness often have porous and permeable boundaries. They are energetically “taking in” the environment, whether they like it or not. Lacking a firm sense of boundaries, they might become too flexible in accommodating others.

They are natural sharers. Without a solid sense of autonomous self, they might be unable to assert their needs or desires.

It’s common for more Yin-oriented people to be indecisive, riddled with self-doubt, and insecure—because their feelings merge with those around them. Highly impressionable and lacking inner certainty, they may struggle to follow their own path.

Furthermore, this tendency may result in passive-aggressive or subtly manipulative behaviours. Their inability to stand their ground, set boundaries, and be direct forces them to find more indirect ways to get their needs met.

Many, driven by shame and lack of acceptance, live a secretive life of fantasy, abstraction, or deep passions, hiding these sides from family or friends. Many choose isolation to find peace. (Much more on this soon.)

Where a healthy Yang provides support, protection, and containment, Yin may be overly trusting and dependent on external structures, giving away all her sovereignty just to belong (to be contained). It’s often just a matter of time before the imbalance and abuse of that trust occurs.

We see this in many relational and societal dynamics, where the dependent one suffers exploitation. This pattern underlies much of the codependence we see today.

These are just essential pieces to help you see the distinctions. I don’t know about you, but for me, discovering that sensitive people largely operate according to the rules of the energetic realm was what opened up and connected all the elements that characterise the nature of sensitivity. The more I lived with this idea, observing it around me, the more confirmation I received. I’ll be discussing many more aspects of sensitivity in the following chapters. These will be based on the distinctions from this chapter and build upon them because I believe this is a good point of reference for understanding sensitivity—or its absence—on a spectrum.

The intangible realm isn’t just something ‘out there.’ It’s in and around us. It connects everything into a web. And It has been here all along, constantly speaking to us.

It’s the part of you that senses truth before it’s spoken, sees connections others miss, and feels the weight of a place, a moment, or a meeting before anything is said.

It’s the unseen force shaping emotions, intuition, and perception itself.

And it is just as real as the ground beneath your feet.

Inner and Outer Duality

This duality can be confusing because we are simultaneously experiencing both the physical and spiritual aspects of life. Each, ruled by a completely opposite set of rules. But it’s only tricky for people, because the natural world is the best model for balancing these two opposites. There are few people as well that are naturally more balanced—grounded and practical, while open and receptive.

In any case, each of us embodies these two polarities within ourselves, dancing with them in the best ways that we can.

One moment, material anxieties grip us—our job, finances, or security. In another, we lose ourselves in a dance when no one is watching. That’s because while a part of you might be terrified of the potential job loss, another part has complete trust in you and in the situation, seeing a broader perspective—limitless time, unbound potential. We want both the security of the job, but we also want to be free to live from our hearts. But sometimes, this part feels beyond reach.

The confusion also happens because of the very ways people leaning more to one of the sides might diverge. Yang creates and operates in the hierarchy. Yin moves in webs and networks. And where Yang is outward directed, Yin is reflective and receptive. These seemingly symbolic features create huge gaps in the ways people fall away from each other. And how these energies cause the inner gaps in our psyche. And weirdly, this gap not only seems to broaden lately, but we diverge in an accelerated pace, where some people move more towards their “chosen” sides.

For instance, some fall deeper into the tech world, and further away from their natural sides, others float to spirituality, because the world seems so foreign.

Oftentimes, the tension between these two dimensions of our experience is so great that it feels like it’s tearing us apart. I believe it’s far more applicable to sensitive people because of so much access we have to the intangible realm of possibilities.

And here it’s important to see how our lives and our mind-bodies reflect this duality. We are constantly integrating these two realms, seeking a way to harmonise them into something greater.

The material world is linked to the left hemisphere—the thinking mind that plans and organises. The modern world is built to prioritise this side. Logical, outcome-driven, striving, and linear traits are encouraged and seen as superior in schools, workplaces, and society in general. It represents what we refer to as the Ego, which is essentially a set of defences that helps us face the world. Ego is a construct designed to avoid pain at all costs. In modern life, this often means numbing everything and cutting off from feeling. It sees the world through the lens of division because it must protect itself.

The right hemisphere represents intuition, creativity, and abstraction. Yet, from early childhood, many of us are taught to dismiss our inner knowing in favour of logic and external validation. Even the most sensitive people struggle to trust themselves, battling an internalised mistrust of their own sensory perception.

Yang, being the thinking mind, is explicit. Yin is the subconscious. And the subconscious is not some vague idea—it is the body itself (feeling and subjective experience). Our sensitivity is our portal to connect with the subtle realms, the collective consciousness, the Earth's wisdom, and our personal divine power. Sensitivity tied to body awareness is where we start and deepen our connection with self-knowing. And the deeper we go, the further we reach. Direct subjective experience is the teacher.

Today, in the age of misinformation, this inner guidance has never been a more important lifeline.

If the explicit is day, then the implicit is night. It’s the ocean, hiding much more beneath the surface than what we can simply see. The dark, the unpredictable—that which many people fear—just as the thinking mind fears emotions. The implicit realm is the chaos that precedes the order of manifest reality. It is disorganised potential, waiting to emerge.

Psychically, our “surface” is our face and our defences—our Ego, what we show to the world. Our inner world, filled with feelings, ideas, and intuition, corresponds to the yin realm, the behind-the-scenes reality and our soft sides that we’re protecting from being known to others. This is the part of us that communicates with the subtle realm of energies, spirits, other creatures, and the stories that float around us.

Dual forces (and their unity) show up everywhere you look. In the ways our bodies are designed and function. In our psychology, as I briefly mentioned. And in how we interact with and are integrated into the natural world that we are a part of.

The Sun energises us to action as we wake up. Its rays trigger internal chemistry that ignites us into our day. We “put on a face” and go out into the world. The activation part of our nervous system allows for that alertness, making things happen. It’s like an energising inhale, preparing us for movement and engagement.

On the other hand, the Moon, merely reflecting the light of the Sun, mirrors the receptivity of Yin, inviting us to wind down and fall into slumber, descending deep into the underworld. This is when our nervous system calms and relaxes, allowing for restoration and nourishment before the next Sun rises. We exhale, sinking into stillness as the troubles of the day fade away.

Rhythms of these two celestial bodies also represent how masculine and feminine hormones are rise and fall in the bodies of a woman and a man. Testosterone moves and peaks according to daily cycles of the fiery Sun. In comparison, feminine hormonal cycles are associated with the waxing and waning over a 28-day cycle of the Moon. Woman’s abilities in different spheres of life enhance or change as the cycle changes. They ebb and flow according to this slower rhythm.

It’s far from a coincidence, in my opinion, that one of two divisions of ANS (Autonomic Nervous System) is responsible for survival (“fight or flight mode”), and the other for secure social connection (“rest and digest mode”). Everything inside and outside our nature is perfectly representing the complementary principles of polarity.

There are countless ways to discover how we’re expressing both the nature of duality and unity in harmony with natural ways.

And while all is well when these two forces balance one another, there are times when they don’t. We are in those times now. That’s why navigating these forces, both internally—in our psychology and externally—in society, is also our battle for freedom.

What is fascinating is that this inner battle between the masculine and feminine is mirrored in the world around us. When the natural containment and support for the yielding, non-dominant force becomes distorted, the dominant force turns into control and coercion. For millennia, excessive masculine (Yang) forces have rejected and exploited the feminine (Yin), and now we see the consequences—imbalances intensify as the suppressed Yin seeks restoration and equilibrium.

This isn’t just about a battle between men and women or within our societal hierarchies (though that is happening too). Neither it’s only about the exclusion of “the other” trying to decide whether they have a right to freely exist or not. It reflects a broader pattern—one seen in many opposing phenomena, both within us and in the world around us. The chaos we see outside today is the same war we’re waging between various parts of ourselves. Some more obvious, others more hidden.

Ego over vulnerability.

Intellect over feelings.

Function over beauty.

Work over play.

Evidence over experience.

Technology over nature.

You may see this growing tension of the opposites playing out in so many ways in your own life. It is an entire wave—those who have been controlled, exiled, and suppressed are now making efforts to fight for liberation and sovereignty. It doesn’t matter whether we are speaking of our own suppressed vulnerable parts screaming to be heard, or minorities, cultures, or other exiled forms seeking expression. Like I said before, humanity is a fascinating species where it may drive itself to the ground by destroying the very thing that allows it to thrive.

But make no mistake. No energy can be suppressed forever.

Although generalising, what I’m sharing feels deeply true to me. Both internally and externally, we have reached a peak of excess. Controlling forces now overpower and suppress the more dependent ones. Nature, which I have discovered is inseparable from us (no matter how much we try to deny it), must always return to equilibrium.

Naturally, what’s out there only mirrors what’s within us. Internally, I have observed it too many times when my strong, fire-like energy forced me into burnout, sickness, and breakdown. Each time, when I unconsciously gave all reign over my creative energy to my masculine over-productive, disciplined self I let it abuse my resources. This is one of the many ways people betray themselves.

How this happens is that in the moment, I zoom in on the task at hand and lose a broader perspective (broad - Yin).  For this to occur, I have to tighten my body, cutting down the feeling and shallow my breath restricting inner flows. I have to stop responding to my sensory discomforts, my needs, and desires by policing my mental state with a narrative of what I should do. I become possessed.

I say “possessed” because I know this isn’t a real me. It’s an entire abduction of my mind, body and energy that’s being led by that particular masculine part (one of many) of me.

You can enter a state of self denial for a few hours. But I know by my own example that people live like that for decades or even their entire lives becoming more disconnected from their own purpose, chasing outward stuff that never fills them up. (Something I will discuss more later).

Time and time again this self abuse taught me that being, feeling, and playing are just as critical to life as work. We have to make the same mistake many times, though before we can start changing.

And so, both our exhausted collective and personal selves are now desperately seeking change.

To change, we need to remember what has been buried so deep beneath these surface theatrics for thousands of years.

Neither realm exists in isolation. They are two sides of the same reality. 

One is structure. The other is flow. 

One is seen and touched. The other is known deep within. 

Matter would be nothing if there weren’t something animating it. And an idea would remain just that—an idea—without the possibility of bringing it into form.

We exist within perfectly designed mechanisms, coordinated in nature, allowing cycles to ebb and flow miraculously without our effort. This mystery is not man-made, but humans are arrogant enough to believe they can outsmart their nature.

Anyone who denies the intangible forgets this. To deny it, one would have to actively ignore the duality within oneself and the world. Living in the man-made world today it’s easy to believe that the tangible, tech-infused life is all that there is. Generation upon generation we think more than we feel. We force more than we allow. We act more than we rest, play, or simply be.

It’s easy to forget.

But when we know what to look for, everything around us reminds us that we are constantly balancing these dual energies and walking the liminal spaces in between. As we start paying attention, we remember.

Yes, this duality creates immense tension, because the developments we created take us so far from our natural ways. This is why balance is necessary. The intangible needs structure to be expressed. Just as water needs a riverbank to guide its flow, the boundless potential of this realm needs containment—through words, actions, form, and focus—to bring its gifts into reality. But form needs inspiration and emotion to birth itself to life.

This interaction must happen through support, not through force.

Neither side is better than the other. It’s not about choosing. To live fully, we must embrace our dual nature. Contrary to many New Age influencers out there, I don’t believe that our way is to be only spiritual. If that were so, we wouldn’t be born into dual reality.

Sensitive people have access to both these realms more than most. Because sensitivity is what allows us to see beyond, hear further, and feel what’s not yet here.

And as they say, knowledge is power.

This is an ability that needs refinement—we must learn how to trust our senses, the intangible sources, and how to ground ourselves to Earth. And although challenging, this vast perceptual range allows us to create a far more integrated experience. Even despite the enormous tension of holding both opposites.

But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We’ll get to that soon enough.

For now I’ll just say that this tension of standing between two realms with such different organising rules, extremely different values, and ways of operating–no matter how hard, seems perfect.

Each day, we are pressured to refine more and start living differently.
Dis-ease forces us to seek a third way—one that goes beyond the sum of the two.

This starts when we start thinking of sensitivity as a tool we get to use, rather than a flaw we have to manage.

If you like what you’re reading, I would love it if you could share my book with a friend or two.
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