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Why We Hate the Sweet Spot


We like sweet things. The center of a cinnamon roll? Absolute perfection. Candy? Cakes? Pies? Ice cream? Sign us up. From a biological standpoint, we're wired to prefer sweet foods, which are more likely to be energy-rich and less likely to kill us. Sweet = safe. Sweet = reward.


The sweet spot on a tennis racket means maximum power. On a baseball bat, perfect contact. In an oven, even baking.


So, it's no surprise that we think we'd like "the sweet spot" when discussing tension. We love the phrase because it promises ease, precision, and reward.


But when it comes to real life, finding the sweet spot between work and rest, presence and planning, control and surrender? Not so much. What about the sweet spot in matters of complex political or societal importance? Even less so.


We don't want a "sweet" place in the middle. We want a winner. The right answer. A clear choice. And we want it to come easily, without too much mental exertion, thank you very much.


The gray area—that messy, murky middle ground—is sorta gross to us. Muddy water, gray skies, and dark places make us recoil. The middle feels weak and uncertain, and, more than anything, it feels risky. We are exposed on all sides, we can't see the end clearly, we can be attacked from multiple directions.


Our lived experience of sweet spots is anything but sweet, and it is anything but desirable to us.


But, for better or worse, that is where the action is. Life is rarely black or white - life is messy, complex, and chaotic. Life is shades of gray upon ever-shifting shades of gray.


Why We Crave Certainty

Binary thinking is wired into us. It's quick and clean and sometimes even saves our lives. Our ancestors didn't debate the nuance of the tiger in the bushes—they ran. Those who hesitated didn't survive to pass on their genes.


Today, this survival wiring is still active, manifesting as:

  • Cognitive Ease: We default to simplicity. Binary = easy.

  • Cognitive Dissonance: Conflicting ideas cause discomfort, so we discard complexity.

  • Splitting: Under stress, everything becomes good or bad, friend or foe.

  • Confirmation Bias: We filter out contradictory evidence once we've chosen a side.


These are not bugs, these are features. This is the default setting for a human being. It has us predisposed to surviving (which is not the same as being predisposed to thriving).


This drive for certainty has us feel safe but makes us brittle and inflexible. Voltaire nailed it when he said: "Uncertainty may be an uncomfortable position, but certainty is absurd."


5 Binary Thinking Traps & How Mindfulness Helps

Mindfulness interrupts this reflex by teaching you to notice when you're hooked—and to pause, breathe, and observe instead. Slowing down is the only way we can defeat our biases and if mindfulness is training in anything, it's training in slowing the fuck down.


1. Success vs. Failure

We think success is binary: we either nailed it or blew it. This mindset breeds perfectionism, imposter syndrome, procrastination, and burnout.


Mindfulness reframes success as a spectrum—a series of experiments with outcomes we can learn from. You stop defining yourself by the score and start engaging with the process. Where before, there was only pass/fail, we now see the scale and can celebrate even small wins.


2. Right vs. Wrong

Obsessing over being right freezes us in indecision and rigidity. Mindfulness invites an openness to complexity. You learn to hold multiple truths, seeing solutions that were invisible in black-and-white thinking.


If we look at things through the lens of morality, right vs wrong gets even more restrictive and less functional. Fear, shame, guilt, and a host of other unwanted emotions flood our thinking and limit our options. Mindfulness asks us to replace morality (right/wrong) with ethics or utility (helpful/harmful). This opens the door to a variety of solutions.


"The test of a first-rate intelligence is the ability to hold two opposed ideas in mind at the same time and still retain the ability to function." —F. Scott Fitzgerald


3. Me vs. Them

Thinking in terms of winners and losers isolates us, creating disconnection and mistrust. Life is not a zero-sum game - win/win is almost always available.


Mindfulness—and specifically Metta meditation—encourages seeing shared humanity. It teaches us to actively wish well for others, even opponents. Metta builds bridges not to convince but to connect.


4. All or Nothing

All-or-nothing thinking traps us in the exhausting pursuit of perfection. We tell ourselves that anything less than flawless isn't worth doing, and the moment imperfection appears, we spiral into shame or abandonment.


Mindfulness offers a powerful alternative by encouraging us to embrace imperfection as the norm, not the exception. Instead of striving for unattainable perfection, mindfulness trains us in resilience, guiding us gently back to our intentions with curiosity and kindness.


This is the real work: not getting it right but lovingly returning to the task, again and again, as a practice of continual learning and compassionate self-correction.


5. Now vs. Later

Believing presence and planning can't coexist often leads us into anxious striving, where planning devolves from strategic thinking into frantic "in-order-to" chasing. Instead of engaging with what's genuinely important right now, we lose ourselves in the endless pursuit of what's next, becoming trapped in guilt and distraction when reality inevitably doesn't align with our rigid expectations.


Mindfulness reveals that presence and planning aren't enemies. Effective planning starts with grounded presence. You learn to shift fluidly between now and next, engaging fully with what's happening without losing sight of what comes next.


Jazz musicians embody this skill: know the key, feel the rhythm, and improvise the next line.


What the Sweet Spot Really Means

The sweet spot isn't compromise or indecision. It's integration. It's the skillful dance between two truths, balancing control and surrender, planning and flexibility.


This isn't a passive state. It's actively holding tension without collapsing into easy answers or simplistic conclusions. It's not that you stop asking questions; it's that you stop looking for the "correct" answer.


It's the practical wisdom of understanding your stakes but remaining loose enough to pivot when reality shifts.


It's about taking Yogi Berra's advice seriously (but playfully): "When you come to a fork in the road, take it."


Because the sweet spot isn't something static—it's always moving, always requiring your awareness and adaptability.


Mindfulness as the Practice of Staying in the Gray

Mindfulness doesn't remove that discomfort. Instead, it teaches us how to stay there without numbing out or freaking out. It teaches us how to dance in a constantly changing world—where the next right step isn't scripted but improvised.


Mindfulness isn't tranquility—it's resilience. It trains you to notice the discomfort of uncertainty and stay anyway. You breathe into the unknown. Instead of demanding clarity, mindfulness cultivates curiosity.


In this state, possibilities emerge that rigid thinking can't see. You learn to trust your own ability to respond spontaneously, moment-to-moment, like a musician who trusts the next note will reveal itself.


It Can All Be a Sweet Spot

Life isn't a scripted play—while it has a beginning and a framework, the middle and end are revealed only in their writing.


You're not being graded on perfection; you're invited to stay in rhythm, listen deeply, and respond genuinely.


Mindfulness teaches you that the magic isn't in flawless execution but in your willingness to be present, adaptable, and responsive.


As the sage, Miles Davis, has said: "There are no wrong notes. It's the next note that makes it right."


That's the real sweet spot—not being right, but being right here.

 
 
 

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© 2024 Aaron Hendon

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