I sat, early 20s, in a class led by one of the hardest professors I’ve ever had. He was an incredibly passionate man: the kind you’d want to follow.
He didn’t give exams in class. Instead, he gave “celebrations of learning.” You had to take them outside of class time, without notes, and answer his handful of open-ended questions. When you finished, you’d have almost ten pages and over 3,000 words written. It wasn’t uncommon to get failing grades on these exams.
He expected a lot of us.
One class period he kept asking us questions about a specific period of history. The class was unprepared to answer his questions.
“Okay. Nobody is ready. Class dismissed. Go to the library and read about this and then come back next time ready to discuss.”
He wasn’t joking, either. Stunned, we all shuffled out of class.
When you were with him, it felt like life mattered to him.
He stood for something.
And then, one time, he said the phrase that connected a lot of the dots for me:
"Balanced people have nothing to say.”
He didn’t claim originality. He attributed the phrase to someone else, but I never actually found the original quote from that someone.
To me, he’s the one who said it. And I’ve never forgotten it.
The Balance Brigade
A “whatabout” exists around every corner of passion.
I never know precisely when salience comes into a human heart regarding a direction, but when it does, look out.
The fire that shows up in the belly of a person who has pored over a new idea, longed for a new startup, knew it was time for a career change, or was ready to tackle a new problem stands out. It’s like a brand-new engine gets dropped inside that person—and the capacity is unimaginable.
Then come the doubters.
“We’ve tried that before.”
“But what about your family? How do they feel?”
“You have a good job.”
“You don’t want to burn out.”
“I don’t see that working.”
“Slow down. Have you thought about the implications?”
Those moments are tough. I’ve been a wet blanket a few too many times for people who want to pursue an idea.
Those moments are when our passion gets tested. Sometimes we have the fortitude to push through. Other times we back off. Often, a gap exists between our passion and the opportunity to execute. Doubts (and doubters) thrive in the waiting.
I’ve had passions I’ve backed off of—youthful or otherwise—and others I’ve kept at.
But a desire for “balance” won’t get you far. The desire will just keep you—keep us—a little safer, maybe with a little more money in the bank and a handful more regrets than some other folks.
Let Imbalance Make You Uncomfortable
But if we could be a little imbalanced—if there is midnight oil to spare—we might realize there’s more in us than we thought. What might be missing is an awakening to pursue something worth fighting for, losing sleep over, and maybe even arguing about.1
This is the young woman who decided to quit her job to pour into her kids while they’re in the home. It’s unbalanced. She left money on the table.
This is the small business owner who worked a month straight because he knew good would come from his idea. He’s a little more tired but ends the month grateful.
This is the friend who goes to school at night for a new degree. “I think it’s crazy,” you say. But five years later, your friend finishes and you realize all you’ve done is thought he was crazy.
This is the high schooler (he might be related to me) who spends his free time running disc golf tournaments to try and build a community in the city. “Yeah, but you can’t make a career out of that.” (How many high schoolers are building a place to connect youth and adults around a fun hobby?)
This is the professor who makes his students leave class because they aren’t ready to have a real discussion.
Don’t make that fire in your belly the measuring rod for someone else. I can’t carry your fire, but I can let it illuminate parts of my own life and knock me off balance in the best of ways.
My professor’s words ring true even 20 years later: balanced people have nothing to say.
So say something.
Where have you let a good idea die due to inattention, discouragement, or distraction? We all have them. What does it take to knock the rust off and get back after it? I’d love to hear about it (and potentially help you get back after it).
The Balance Brigade may want to remind me at that time that you don’t want good things to become ultimate things. That’s fine. Not my point in this article. I want you passionate. The temptation to make anything an ultimate thing will always be there—even for those of us who crave balance.



