Battle Fronts
Battle Fronts
At some point, most of us come up against the same challenge: how to give our best to what matters most while not letting everything else fall apart. It sounds simple in theory—prioritize what’s important—but in practice, it feels more like a balancing act on a tilting ship in a storm. There’s your main work, your deep calling, your creative life—but also your bills, your health, your relationships, your house, your inbox. It all needs something from you. And only so much of you exists.
This is something I’ve wrestled with for a long time. Maybe you too.
In my case, I’ve spent most of my life trying to focus on what I considered essential—my art, my writing, the work that feels true. That’s where my energy wants to go, where I feel most myself, where I seem to move in alignment. When I’m in that zone, I don’t second guess myself. I know what I’m doing. I trust the impulse, follow it where it leads. That kind of clarity is rare, so I’ve always leaned into it.
But while I’m tending that fire, other parts of life have often burned unattended—organization, finances, home maintenance, paperwork, even basic routines. In my early twenties, I was often distracted and absent minded. Keeping a tidy living space was an uphill climb.
And I haven’t mastered it. In fact, I’m not sure I ever will. I’m not even sure what “mastery” would look like when it comes to all of the demands of life. What I do know is that each of us has our own arrangement of strengths and shortcomings. Nobody has it together on all fronts. That’s just human. Life presents more demands than most of us can realistically meet.
So maybe a better metaphor is battle—the battle of life, of showing up each day and trying to do justice to the life you’ve been given. And in that light, life becomes a matter of battle fronts.
A general, on the field of battle, knows not to engage on too many fronts at once. Spread your army too thin, and you risk collapse. Advance too fast, and you outrun your supply lines. Your forces become exhausted, exposed, and isolated. You lose the advantage.
It’s no different in life. Trying to “do everything all at once” is a sure way to do nothing well. Every front you open demands resources—time, attention, energy, discipline, care. You only have so much to give. So the art is not in trying to be everywhere at once. It’s in choosing your battles—wisely, deliberately, humbly. Study the terrain, gather intelligence, protect your flanks and don’t overreach.
As Clint Eastwood’s Dirty Harry once put it: “A man’s gotta know his limitations.”
That’s not a defeatist line. It’s a line of self-knowledge. The kind that keeps you from overextending, burning out, or losing sight of what really matters. Because here’s the secret—you can’t win on all fronts at the same time. No one can. Not even the greats.
Instead, what I’ve found helpful is learning to reduce the number of fronts and then rotate among the remaining fronts. Focus hard on your main creative fire—but every so often, shift your gaze and resources. Is there a supply line you’ve neglected? Some low-stakes front that's starting to become a liability? Maybe it’s your health, your space, your relationships. Don’t try to overhaul everything at once. Just reinforce what needs reinforcement. Patch the gaps. Then return to the main work with new strength.
Over time, you begin to develop a rhythm—between the front lines and the base camp, between the high vision and the continual maintenance. And in that rhythm, a kind of life-balance starts to take shape. Not perfect. Not always clean and orderly. But functional. Sustainable.
If you’re like me, still figuring this out, don’t worry. You’re not alone. The truth is, most of us are in a lifelong campaign—with shifting priorities, unpredictable terrain, and the occasional ambush. But if you keep showing up, keep learning your rhythm, and keep honoring your true north, you’ll find a way to carry on with some grace.
Just don’t forget to resupply. Don’t open too many fronts. And above all, know your limitations—so that you can move with strength when and where it counts.
I can usually figure out my priorities but will also fail at that, feel overwhelm, then shut down and go lay down and veg out which seems to somehow make me not give a damn about any of it for the time being. Took me many weeks to finally work on/then finish a piece which had been a bitchy challenge for me......I also had to play the waiting game as I ordered some pieces for the work. I love love love the final piece and now feel free to move on to other ones I've started. I know that feeding my dog and the stray cats and possum are a priority and that happens without any issues. But even for myself....I'll forget to eat when I'm involved in the studio. Also, I do some online dating and was going to meet somone for lunch last week, but was feeling really uneasy about this one person. I finally cancelled it and a huge weight had been lifted from me. It was the right thing to do at the time and freed me up to work on a piece. Things get done; not always in the "right" order but it all works out in the end. I may be hard on myself but I also give me a lot of slack and forgiveness when I'm not quite on the ball.
Excellent perspective and advice. Sometimes I feel like the only one spinning too many plates, so it is very good to hear there are others in this situation too.