Um-Yang and the Art of Balance

Nikky

So, I think we’ve all seen the Um-Yang symbol before, right? That circle with the squiggly line through the middle—you've got one side in red, the other in blue. But, honestly, it’s so much more than just a cool design.

John Harvey

Absolutely. That symbol is a profound representation of balance within the universe. In Korean metaphysics, Um-Yang, derived from Ki— the vital life force—embodies this concept of opposing yet complementary forces.

Nikky

Right, and it’s all about that push and pull. Like, Um represents the softer, more passive aspects—darkness, you know, almost the space between things. And then there’s Yang: strong, active, bright. It’s like this perfect dance between opposites.

John Harvey

Exactly. These forces are inseparable. For instance, take the day and night cycle—a perpetual interplay where darkness transitions into light and back again. Neither can exist without the other, and both are required to maintain the natural balance of life.

Nikky

Yeah, and it’s not static, you know. It’s dynamic, constantly shifting and evolving. That’s what I really felt during my Hapkido training. Like, when you’re redirecting someone’s momentum. You use their force against them—that’s the "Um" part. And then, bam, when the time’s right, you strike decisively. That’s pure Yang.

John Harvey

Indeed. That reflects the philosophy beautifully. Um is fluid and unrelenting, much like water carving its way through stone. Yang, in contrast, is resolute, like the very strength of the stone itself. Together, they illustrate how one can adapt to circumstances while remaining committed to a purpose.

Nikky

Totally. And what's wild is that even the Um-Yang symbol itself shows this interaction—how they've got those little dots, right? Each side has a piece of the other inside it.

John Harvey

Yes, those dots signify interdependence. Within strength resides gentleness, and within gentleness lies strength. The idea is to incorporate both, not isolate one over the other, in order to achieve harmony in life, nature, or even combat.

Nikky

And it’s this constant flow—just like in a fight. One moment you’re yielding, redirecting, and then the next? You’re striking with precision. That’s exactly how Um and Yang work together.

Nikky

You know, this whole idea of balance we were talking about isn’t just philosophical—it’s super practical, especially in martial arts. With Hapkido, for example, it’s like that interplay of Um and Yang in action. You learn to redirect someone’s force—yielding when needed—and then, just like the dots in the symbol show, strike decisively when it’s time. It’s all about knowing how to flow dynamically between the two.

John Harvey

Exactly. That interplay is foundational. Hapkido teaches you to use your opponent’s energy to your advantage. When someone applies force, you don’t meet it head-on; instead, you redirect it. This is the essence of Um—softness and adaptability—while Yang manifests as the decisive, powerful counteraction.

Nikky

Oh, for sure. I remember sparring matches where someone would come at me full force, and instead of just blocking, it was about pulling them off balance. It’s, uh... like water, you know? You flow around the attack until you’re ready to crash back.

John Harvey

Precisely—water is a perfect metaphor for Um. It’s soft yet unstoppable, capable of wearing down even the hardest rock over time. Contrast that with the Yang element in Hapkido, which is like steel—strong, direct, and unyielding when applied with precision. Together, they create this dynamic harmony that’s both effective and sustainable in practice.

Nikky

And it’s not just in the dojo. This balance is everywhere—like in traditional medicine. Eastern medicine takes this whole Um-Yang thing and applies it to your body, finding that sweet spot between too much heat and too much cold.

John Harvey

Exactly. The body itself is a microcosm of the Um-Yang principle. Health, as viewed in traditional Chinese medicine, stems from maintaining internal harmony. For example, an imbalance where Yang dominates could manifest as ailments driven by excess heat, while an overabundance of Um might cause cold-related conditions. Practices like acupuncture are designed to restore this equilibrium by targeting specific energy pathways or meridians within the body.

Nikky

And it’s not just about needles, right? There’s herbal medicine, too. I remember learning how different herbs carry their own "energy”—some warm you up, some cool you down. It’s all about figuring out what your body really needs.

John Harvey

Yes, herbs play a significant role. Each herb is selected for its properties, whether they’re warming, cooling, invigorating, or calming. The key lies in creating the right combination to address an individual’s unique imbalance. This principle parallels the way combinations of soft and hard techniques are applied in martial arts.

Nikky

It’s fascinating how everything connects, isn’t it? Like this one big system, and if one part’s out of whack, the whole thing kinda stumbles.

John Harvey

Indeed. That interconnectedness is at the heart of the philosophy. Whether in combat, medicine, or life, balance is not static. It requires continuous adjustment and awareness to maintain. And that’s where both the art and the science come into play in everything from striking an opponent to healing the body.

Nikky

Right. And I think what’s so cool is how these ancient ideas—like stuff our ancestors were working out centuries ago—still feel so relevant today. Whether you're in a fight or just trying to find some inner peace, it all comes back to balance.

Nikky

It’s amazing how this idea of balance carries over into so many aspects of life. We talked about it in martial arts and medicine, but it shows up in cultural expressions, too—like Korean art. Um Tai-Jung’s sculptures, for instance, are all about reconciling opposites. You’ve got vertical and horizontal lines, silver and black tones. Everything about his work feels like this perfect balance.

John Harvey

Absolutely. His sculptures, with their contrasting elements, reflect the essence of Um and Yang beautifully. They’re not just static forms; they’re alive in their duality. You can feel how one aspect enhances the other—the balance of tension and harmony, presence and absence.

Nikky

Exactly! And what’s cool is how this idea of duality—it’s not just in their art, it’s literally woven into their everyday life. Korean architecture, for instance. I remember seeing hanok houses—

John Harvey

—Ah, yes, with their curved rooftops and open courtyards.

Nikky

Yeah, those! They’re like the architectural version of Um-Yang, you know? Everything’s designed to work with nature, not against it. Open spaces for light and air, but there’s also coziness, a closeness. It’s all about creating harmony in the environment.

John Harvey

Precisely. And that harmony isn’t limited to physical spaces. It extends into cultural practices as well. For example, the rituals surrounding tea ceremonies or even martial arts training—each is meticulously crafted to emphasize balance, respect, and interaction with natural forces.

Nikky

Right. And, honestly, I don’t think I fully understood that until I started visiting places where everything felt... out of balance. Like when I was embedded with fighters in Myanmar—

John Harvey

—Conflict zones often reveal that stark imbalance, don’t they?

Nikky

Totally. Every step felt tense, chaotic. You’re constantly on edge, like you’re either bracing for impact or just trying to stand still on shaky ground. And then you see people who somehow manage to, I don’t know, create their own kind of balance in the middle of it all. Whether it’s through rituals, relationships, or just raw resilience, that need for harmony—it’s universal.

John Harvey

And incredibly profound. In my intelligence work, there were moments where the unpredictability of human behavior and geopolitical forces created an almost overwhelming sense of imbalance. Yet, even in those moments, finding equilibrium—even temporarily—was often the key to making progress. It’s as if balance is not just the goal but the process itself.

Nikky

Yeah, and I think art reflects that so perfectly, don’t you? Like, it doesn’t always solve the chaos, but it can capture those moments of stillness or alignment. Just like Um Tai-Jung’s sculptures—they don’t erase the tension, they embrace it.

John Harvey

Beautifully said. And that’s what makes these ideas so timeless. Harmony, duality, and balance—whether it’s in art, architecture, combat, or even just life—they challenge us to continually adapt, to reflect, and ultimately, to grow.

Nikky

For sure. It’s like what we’ve been saying this whole time—balance isn’t this fixed state, right? It’s fluid, dynamic; it’s about staying in motion, adjusting with whatever life throws at you.

John Harvey

Exactly. And perhaps that’s the ultimate lesson of Um-Yang. It reminds us to honor both strength and softness, to find harmony not by erasing our differences, but by allowing them to coexist and enrich one another.

Nikky

I love that. And that feels like the perfect note to end on. I mean, if this episode has taught me anything, it’s that balance isn’t just something to strive for—it’s something to live with, every day.

John Harvey

Indeed. And with that, we hope this conversation inspires everyone listening to reflect on their own balance—whether in thought, action, or simply how they engage with the world around them.

Nikky

Thanks for tuning in, everyone. And until next time, keep searching for that balance, wherever you find yourself.

John Harvey

Take care, and see you next time.