Soulful Sundays: Center
- Blake Storey
- Aug 9
- 2 min read
“The bad news is you’re falling through the air, nothing to hang on to, no parachute. The good news is, there’s no ground.” — Chögyam Trungpa Rinpoche

中文 (Zhōngwén) literally means “the Chinese language,” but the first character, 中 (Zhōng), means center. The Chinese name for China, 中国 (Zhōngguó), translates to Central Country or Middle Kingdom. In Chinese thought, “center” is more than geography—it’s a principle that runs through philosophy, medicine, art, and martial arts. We see it in Tai Chi, Kung Fu, Aikido, Jiu-Jitsu—disciplines built on balance and alignment. To keep the center is to remain whole. In combat, it means stability. In life, it means staying connected to what matters most.
The center is always there. It doesn’t need to be built—it needs to be uncovered. Michelangelo once said he could see the statue already inside the marble, and that his work was to remove what didn’t belong. Our center is the same way: whole and complete, yet buried under layers of distraction, fear, and expectation.
When life pulls us in a hundred directions—when obligations multiply and voices compete for our attention—the temptation is to add more. More strategies, more answers, more noise. But the way back to center is through subtraction.
Subtract the roles that don’t fit.
Subtract the voices that aren’t ours.
Subtract the obligations that don’t serve our reason for being here.
Keep subtracting until only one thing is left—the one thing tied to the deepest truth. Yet when we reach that point, we let go. Because it’s like realizing we’ve always been falling, yet there’s no ground to hit. If we cling too tightly to the center, the center shifts. But if we release our grip, we can stop bracing for impact. We can start noticing the small things: the laugh of a child, the taste of cool water after a long thirst, the breeze that surprises us on a hot summer afternoon when we thought the heat would never break.
Thus, we are called back to the center again and again whenever we drift. The center is made of the foundational principles that hold the whole together. It’s not some shiny, untested innovation. It’s the proven truths—the simple, enduring laws. The core of health is not complicated: rest well, eat real food, move often, breathe deeply. The core of physics is not complicated: matter, motion, energy, cause and effect. The core of happiness is not complicated: meaningful work, loving relationships, time in the present. Return to the center, and the rest finds its proper place.
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