Between Two Tides: Navigating Life’s Dualities

There’s this moment I always look forward to when paddleboarding on the Pacific, right at sunset. The water transforms into a mirror that reflects the sky, and I feel like I’m gliding between two worlds—the sea below and the infinite horizon above. This is where calm meets chaos, where opposites coexist harmoniously. It’s also where I do my best thinking, which lately has been about what it means to live between worlds.

A life of dualities isn’t just poetic; it’s chaotic, often hilarious, and sometimes soul-stretching. Whether it’s your cultural identity, your personal choices, or even how you show up in relationships, walking the line between two worlds can feel like a tightrope act. Take it from someone who’s lived his life balancing Santa Barbara’s sun-kissed ease with Stanford’s academic rigor, or navigating between my love of nature conservation and my obsession with mid-century modern furniture. Life is messy—but it’s richer for it.

What I’ve come to realize is that this “in-between” space isn’t about choosing sides. It’s about finding the beauty in contrast and, sometimes, surviving the awkward collisions. Let’s dive deep (pun absolutely intended) into what that means.

The Sea and the Shore: Embracing Duality in Identity

Living between worlds can feel like standing on the shoreline at high tide, the waves brushing your feet but never fully pulling you into the ocean. My California upbringing comes with its share of contrasts: mornings spent roaming coastal cliffs in Santa Barbara, balanced by evenings attending black-tie fundraisers with my parents, surrounded by art gallery owners and city planners. One minute you’re trying to keep your flip-flops sand-free, the next you’re nervously sipping sparkling water, hoping you didn’t misidentify a Rothko.

As much as I cherish that quirky blend of casual and polished, it wasn’t always a walk on Butterfly Beach. In my teens, I struggled to figure out which version of myself to lean into. Do I play up my surfer side to maintain cool cred, or showcase my bookish, more introspective side? It felt like the “double life” trope from a rom-com—except less glamorous and with significantly more sunburn.

For those who feel yourself stretched between identities (maybe it’s cultural or professional, or maybe family holidays feel like a live sitcom), here’s what works:

1. Own the Intersection.
There’s so much power in saying, “Yep, I’m both things.” You’re not just the punk rock kid or the violin virtuoso; you can shred a guitar solo and pluck a mean Bach sonata. People remember layered personalities, so lean into yours.

2. Stop Explaining Yourself.
You don’t owe anyone an annotated guide to your choices. You like green juice and greasy breakfast burritos—great, so do I. Contradictions make us human. Let people squirm in their own stereotypes while you live on your own terms.

Relationships in the In-Between

Nowhere do dualities show up more clearly than in relationships. Ah, love: the simultaneous urge to lean in and pull back, to be wild and vulnerable, independent yet deeply connected. Living between those emotional “worlds” is as thrilling as it is terrifying.

When I moved to Santa Monica, I met someone who was my total opposite—a fast-talking entertainment lawyer who fueled herself on cold brew and ambition, the kind of person who always seemed to have five places to be at once. I called her “espresso,” and she called me “zen” (both lovingly and sometimes sarcastically).

While those differences felt like magnets at the start, they also created friction as we tried to build a life together. Her idea of a Saturday morning was a chic brunch spot with a 45-minute wait; mine was grabbing a burrito and watching the tide roll in. For a while, I wondered if one of us would have to change—or worse, if the relationship only worked when we were pretending neither of us was compromising.

Eventually, we learned the simplest, yet hardest lesson of all: find the overlap.

What does that look like in practice?
- Communicate Like an Anthropologist. Pretend you’re studying each other’s native cultures. Ask questions. Get curious. Why does she find excitement in chaos? Why do I crave calm like it’s oxygen? Understanding why your partner loves what they love can breed respect.
- Double-Date the Worlds. Instead of pitting your different interests against each other, overlap them. One Saturday, hit the farmers’ market and then enjoy mimosas at her “sceney” spot. Balance is key—and it keeps things fresh.
- Respect the Solo Missions. Relationships thrive when partners retain individuality. She’d have her spa days; I’d paddleboard solo. Space doesn’t mean distance—it means thriving.

We didn’t end up together forever (turns out, espresso needs her independence, and zen needs his solitude), but the experience taught me that differences aren’t necessarily barriers—they’re beautiful bridges. And those bridges show us what we’re made of.

Careers: Surfboards or Corporate Suits?

Professionally, it’s easy to feel caught between worlds—especially when one world pays your rent, but the other feeds your soul. Before I started writing full-time, I worked at an environmental consultancy, fulfilling my “practical” side. It gave me structure, a predictable paycheck, and the respectability my parents hoped for when they sent me to private school.

But while my colleagues were excited about promotions and PowerPoint presentations, I found myself daydreaming about essays, spilling out words about ocean ecosystems and human connection late into the night. I felt torn: corporate blazer by day, Birkenstock-wearing dreamer by night. Could I do both? Would choosing one mean sacrificing the other?

Spoiler alert: You can lean into both worlds. Here’s how I transitioned from the stable to the slippery-but-exhilarating:

  • Find the Overlap (Again). Whether at work or in life, your “two worlds” are often more connected than you realize. Writing creatively about environmental issues became my niche; it blended my passions without forcing me to choose.
  • Set Small Goals. The “go big or go home” mentality is overrated. Start small, see what sticks, and go from there. My first essay was published in a tiny nature journal, but it lit the fire I needed to keep writing.
  • Define Success Beyond Norms. I learned to measure “success” through connection and authenticity—not titles or paychecks. Pursuing passions can mean living smaller but feeling bigger.

Loving the Paradox

Here’s the thing nobody tells you about living between worlds: it’s exhausting in the best way. It’s awkward and exhilarating and sometimes hilarious—kind of like a first date where you accidentally admit you don’t know how to use chopsticks.

But it’s worth it. Life isn’t a neat checklist of categories—it’s a beautifully chaotic ecosystem. You can live in two tides, balancing the ebb of comfort with the flow of risk. You can love lavish art galleries and the feeling of walking barefoot on wet sand. You can crave alone time while calling your best friend to gush about your day.

After all, it’s not about choosing one world over another. It’s about creating your own.

So, if you ever find yourself stuck between conflicting worlds, remind yourself: the most vibrant lives happen in the intersections. Every shoreline needs both the land and the waves to exist. Keep paddling. You’re right where you need to be.