How does Flexibility Relate to Strength?
EXPLORING THE SAGANO BAMBOO FOREST IN KYOTO, JAPAN, 2020
Lately, I’ve been struggling with flexibility—I keep catching my mind, body, and spirit being surprisingly rigid at times, each feeling the strain of inflexibility.
My muscles—those loyal companions that have hauled me up and down mountains, powered me through marathons, and keep me walking everywhere—are practically begging to be stretched, as if they need to redistribute their strength. It’s got me wondering:
What if strength isn’t about some outdated, rigid idea of power, but about the flexibility to ride the challenging waves we face every day?
A few years ago, a heavy storm hit Munich. Many ancient oaks—hundreds of years old—were toppled in the area where a friend of mine lives.
After the tempest, in my friend’s garden, a sunflower was still standing while all the trees had fallen. The flower had initially been knocked down like everything else, but it managed to set itself upright again—a feat the giant leafy friends couldn’t match.
The sunflower owed its survival to its flexibility, a kind of strength the rigid oak could not muster.
Or consider bamboo:
It’s famous for its extreme flexibility and strength, thanks to its ability to bend without breaking. That’s why it’s still used as a traditional building material in Japan today.
Bamboo weathers storms and winds by bending to the pressure, not getting uprooted, and realigning itself once the disruption has passed.
Its capacity to withstand external forces before breaking is often cited as one of its key advantages.
Turns out:
Power shows up in many forms, which makes me question what it really means to me.
The old idea of power—focused on accumulation, force, and getting ahead at any cost—seems less convincing these days. I notice it everywhere, and it feels like it’s losing its grip.
I’ve been noticing my sense of what it means to be human getting challenged by AI. As technology rapidly self-improves and gains more leverage, I sometimes find myself questioning whether I’m still trusting my own humanness.
The rise of AI automations and digital agents makes it easier than ever to let go of our own thinking—to just follow the siren call of prompts and chatbots instead of flexing our creative and innovative muscles.
But then I remember Nietzsche’s subtle approach to power in Ecce Homo—how we become what we are. “It is the quietest words that bring the storm. Thoughts that come on dove’s feet steer the world.”
He reminds us that it’s not always the loudest voices or the most dramatic moves that change things.
The biggest shifts—whether in society, culture, or inside ourselves—often start with quiet, unassuming ideas. These are the true catalysts for transformation, stirring up real change (the “storm”) even though they arrive softly (“on dove’s feet”).
What if we’re underestimating the power we hold within?
There’s a quiet strength in authenticity—resting in yourself, staying flexible, remaining curious, and being open to learning, unlearning, and adapting to whatever seems insurmountable.
There’s real courage in facing our vulnerability, in recognizing the fragility of what we often take for granted: our minds working smoothly, or our bodies graciously carrying us through the day—things we tend to overlook until they stop cooperating with our neglect.
There’s also power in admitting that, from the standpoint of what we’ve learned, we’ll always know just a fraction of what there is to know. All those “black swans”—as Nassim Taleb describes—can become our greatest sources of unexpected growth.
And then there’s the power of being aware of our temporary existence, so sharply captured by Shakespeare’s Macbeth as a “fleeting shadow,” and echoed in Zen Buddhism’s cornerstone of life: impermanence.
All these perspectives expand what power can mean—beyond outdated definitions we’re all trying to recalibrate as the world keeps shifting.
It makes me wonder:
Is there an interdependence between flexibility and strength we can use to our advantage?
I have a cousin who’s a successful athlete—he’s completed several Ironmans and has won national kayaking races more times than I can count.
Every time I hug him, a three-time dad juggling a full-time job alongside his athletic career, I’m amazed by his powerful physique.
When we run together during my visits, I always insist on a post-run stretching session. It usually ends in laughter, since he can barely reach his knees with his fingertips and admits he’s never been enthusiastic about stretching.
He’s quick to point out that this has been the most common cause of his injuries, calling lack of flexibility the weakest link in his overall resilience.
Neglecting my own stretching routine lately has forced me to reflect:
Did my recent skiing accident happen because I was too stiff to adjust in that split second, causing my inner band on my knee to snap?
Now, as I painfully work stretching back into my routine, I’m asking myself: will pushing through this discomfort bring me to a more balanced kind of strength?
Here’s the hopeful part:
There’s another level we can reach—a kind of power that comes from being stretchier, softer, and ultimately less vulnerable, because we don’t snap the moment we hit resistance.
What if the same principle applies beyond physical strength? What if staying flexible is what allows us to dance on the surface waves of the deep ocean we’re all a part of?
Can our minds become more powerful by being more flexible?
Just like in my physical explorations, stubbornly clinging to our viewpoints can make us vulnerable.
History shows that dogmatic beliefs—even outside of horrors of war—can block the diversity that makes us stronger. Harsh conformity to a single way of thinking shuts out the possibilities that come from embracing difference.
In fact, ecosystems with greater biodiversity are consistently more resilient and productive, proving that nature thrives on diversity, not uniformity.
Just as ecosystems thrive on biodiversity, teams and communities become more resilient and innovative when they welcome a diversity of perspectives and ideas.
We evolve most powerfully by letting go of who we were yesterday, instead of insisting on a fixed idea of who we think we are. As Rumi so poetically reminds us:
“Be melting snow
Wash yourself of yourself “
The good news is:
It’s actually more relaxing to make space for change than to force ourselves into a mold of our own making.
The strength of flexibility expands our wiggle room to be more—rather than fighting an internal war to stay the same.
Some of the most impressive changes I’ve witnessed in life have come from people willing to let go of what they once felt certain about.
Take my neighbor, for example. When we first met, she was openly wary of people of color—she even complained about a suspicious person of color she’d seen in our building early one morning (who happened to be my dad).
Over time, though, circumstances challenged her perspective. She later told me, “I feel stronger being less rigid,” and admitted she now feels more inspired since being confronted with her own assumptions.
And maybe that’s the point:
Flexibility is choosing love over fear, yielding over forcing, and being open to receive with curiosity rather than insisting on keeping things set in stone.
Where Nature is leading the way
The strength of flexibility to adapt has made California sea lions remarkably resilient in the face of changing environmental conditions. When their preferred prey—sardines and anchovies—became less abundant due to shifting ocean patterns, they adapted by altering their foraging behavior and diet.
They powerfully adjusted their diving patterns to reach deeper waters, expanded their diet, and notably increased their neck flexibility and biting force to better catch and consume new prey.
Maybe we humans, too, can benefit from cultivating flexibility in both body and mind—beyond our solid truths.
The power of flexibility isn’t just about survival; it’s about thriving in an ever-changing world.
In physical terms, flexibility enhances strength by:
Improving range of motion, leading to better performance
Reducing the risk of injury
Enhancing recovery and reducing muscle soreness
In mental and emotional terms, flexibility strengthens us by:
Expanding problem-solving capabilities
Increasing our ability to cope with stress and change
Improving relationships and communication skills
Fostering creativity and innovation
Modern neuroscience shows that our brains are wired for change—thanks to neuroplasticity, we have the remarkable ability to adapt, learn, and rewire our thinking throughout life.
In psychology, the concept of psychological flexibility—central to Acceptance and Commitment Therapy—highlights how adapting our thoughts and behaviors in response to life’s challenges is key to well-being.
Often, when searching for creative solutions, our rigidity becomes our biggest obstacle—we focus on how things are “supposed” to work instead of adapting creatively to new opportunities.
This rigidity contradicts Albert Einstein’s view of flexibility: “The measure of intelligence is the ability to change.”
This statement reflects the idea that true intelligence involves adaptability and the capacity to evolve in response to new circumstances and information.
In psychology, the term adjustment disorder describes a maladaptive emotional or behavioral response to significant life stressors—such as loss, major changes, or ongoing difficulties—in psychological diagnostic manuals.
Sometimes called “situational depression” or “stress response syndrome,” it highlights the impact when we can’t bend with the minor to major tempests life exposes us to daily.
How Flexibility can Cultivate Power
After 25 years of working with countless teams, mindsets, and levels of flexibility, one thing has become clear: finding solutions is much easier when we make space for the other person’s point of view to be fully heard, rather than shutting it down from the start.
Approaching a challenge with rigidity reliably clogs up the flow. Just as reliably, it’s the willingness to loosen our grip on a fixed opinion that helps us work through obstacles.
Admittedly, giving that inch can feel daunting. Yet, as the practice of “deep listening” in Zen culture suggests, letting the other person be fully heard helps them feel seen—often opening the door to collaboration instead of competition.
I’ve also seen inflexibility block progress countless times, when teams cling to predetermined frameworks. The phrase “but we said…” often wastes gallons of energy forcing ideas into ill-fitting molds, instead of questioning the mold itself.
This kind of rigidity not only stifles progress but also blinds teams to the talents and resources right in front of them. The same thing happens when we keep someone boxed into an official role—we miss out on the broader capacities they bring, choosing the inflexibility of labels over the power of potential.
On a hopeful note:
When teams embrace flexibility within their structures, they open themselves to innovation and unexpected solutions.
A framework is helpful for getting a project off the ground and steering it toward a deadline—but it’s crucial to recognize the power of flexibility within that structure.
The Silver Linings of Flexibility
One of the most commercially successful print collections I ever worked on came from an “accident”: a print was delivered upside-down on the fabric.
Normally, changing the garment layout to fit a misaligned print involves huge costs and logistical headaches.
While we were debating how to handle the issue, the creative team noticed that the images actually worked from this “wrong” angle, giving the collection a fresh effect. By getting our egos out of the way and staying open-minded, we avoided wasting kilometers of already-produced fabric.
Being flexible within our precise planning saved money, time, stress, and resources by stretching towards seeing new possibilities.
Traveling often teaches the value of flexibility through reliable unpredictability:
On a trip through Sri Lanka, weather kept us from reaching our planned New Year’s Eve accommodation. Instead, we ended up at the family home of our driver’s cousin, dancing into the new year on a secluded beach in soft, mystical winds and rain.
The pragmatic, hospitable locals—who, as it turned out, had never left the island—demonstrated a deep life-wisdom and a flexible mindset that rivaled even the most widely traveled people I know.
As Oliver Burkeman puts it, embracing the process over rigid plans can reveal unexpected gifts:
“The second-order change has occurred: now that you´ve abandoned your futile efforts to dictate the speed at which the experience moves, the real experience can begin”.
The power of interdependence of structure and flexibility:
There’s undeniable power in consistency and predictability—but we can amplify that power by staying open to change when needed.
Boundaries and clear expectations provide clarity, but if we never move beyond our framework with a flexible mindset, we risk missing opportunities for growth and innovation.
Normed rules offer stability, but in unpredictable situations, strict adherence can actually increase stress. Approaching regulations as guidelines—rather than rigid laws—helps us adapt without being hijacked by the urge to blindly conform.
Routine tasks can boost efficiency, but if we operate on autopilot, we limit our problem-solving abilities and lose touch with conscious engagement in the process.
Structure can cultivate a strong sense of identity, yet it can also create conflict in relationships and teamwork if we never question whether established principles still fit where we are now.
From daily challenges to life-defining decisions, flexibility—whether physical, mental, or emotional—is a cornerstone of true strength and resilience.
As the saying goes, sometimes the most impactful approach is to:
"Plan for the worst and hope for the best."
This can look like
Planning every detail of a trip, but staying open when things shift—like the time we missed a key connection traveling between countries in the Middle East and ended up on a night bus, connecting with locals in ways we never expected.
Envisioning a certain kind of life, yet listening to your heart—even when everyone around you is settling down or following a set path, you choose differently, true to yourself.
Setting your sights on living and working in Paris or Milan because “that’s what a fashion designer does,” but ending up in New York, London, and Madrid instead—embracing lessons and opportunities that turned out to be far more aligned with my path than I ever imagined.
Start small to build resilience through flexibility. Try one tweak to your routine this week and notice how it feels to adapt:
Get off public transport a stop early or late, or take a different exit on your drive.
Brush your teeth with your non-dominant hand.
Swap out your go-to herb or even salt in your cooking.
Alternate between sitting and standing at your desk.
Walk a route you usually drive (if it’s under 30 minutes).
Notice how awkward it feels at first—and how quickly it gets easier. The second time brushing with your non-dominant hand is always surprisingly less weird than the first.
From the bendable yet unbreakable bamboo to the adaptable sea lions, from Einstein’s definition of intelligence to successful business strategies and our own personal journeys, the ability to flex and adapt is crucial for survival and success.
As we navigate an ever-changing world, our greatest strength often lies not in rigid resistance, but in our ability to bend without breaking.
By doing so, we turn challenges into opportunities and uncertainty into adventure, continually redefining what flexible power means for us.
Have you asked yourself:
How hard is it for you to be flexible in everyday life?
In what areas do you tend to be most inflexible—and why?
Can you make space for contrasting points of view?
How has your level of flexibility affected your relationships?
Where could a more flexible approach improve a situation right now?
Do you have your own definition of power and success? What shapes it?
Can you recall a time when flexibility led to an unexpected positive outcome?