I think because of our society, and the way that I grew up in

Tobin Heath, one of the great artisans of the beautiful game, once reflected: “I think because of our society, and the way that I grew up in soccer, I had to become well-rounded, but I also cherished the parts of me that made me special. I'm thankful for that because it's made me a better player.” These words are filled with wisdom, for they capture the eternal balance between the discipline of wholeness and the daring of individuality. They remind us that life demands both conformity and uniqueness, both the learning of the shared craft and the preservation of what sets one apart.

The origin of this reflection lies in Heath’s upbringing within the world of American soccer, a culture that emphasized teamwork, versatility, and the capacity to be well-rounded. From youth leagues to national competition, she was taught to master all aspects of the game, to strengthen her weaknesses, and to play not only for herself but for the collective. Yet Heath was never content to erase her individuality. She also honored the qualities that made her special—her creativity, her artistry on the ball, her vision that few others possessed. By embracing both sides, she became not only a stronger athlete but a more complete human being.

History echoes this principle. Consider Leonardo da Vinci, who studied the full breadth of the sciences, mechanics, and anatomy, yet also cherished his unique gift of imagination that allowed him to paint the Mona Lisa. Or think of Michael Jordan, whose relentless discipline made him a complete player, but who never lost the flair, the fire, and the signature moves that made him unlike any other. Both, like Tobin Heath, found greatness by walking the line between versatility and individual brilliance.

At the heart of Heath’s words is the teaching that we must not abandon the parts of ourselves that shine differently from the rest. Society, in its pursuit of uniformity, often asks us to blend in, to fit the mold, to do everything acceptably. Yet true greatness comes when we embrace the unique spark within us. The balance is not in rejecting the collective, but in harmonizing it with the special qualities that only we can bring.

To the youth, this lesson is a beacon: learn broadly, train in every aspect of your craft, and become strong where you are weak. But never bury the gifts that make you stand out. Cherish them, nurture them, and dare to show them, for they are the very essence of who you are. The world does not only need well-rounded individuals; it needs souls who carry a signature of brilliance.

To the elders, the teaching is also profound: when guiding the young, do not only press them into molds of discipline and generality. Encourage their uniqueness, for it is in those uncommon gifts that they will find their true path. Greatness is never built solely on conformity—it blossoms when discipline meets individuality, when the ordinary is infused with the extraordinary.

The eternal wisdom here is this: wholeness and uniqueness must walk hand in hand. To be well-rounded without individuality is to be dull; to be unique without discipline is to be unstable. Tobin Heath’s gratitude comes from finding harmony between the two. She became not just a better player, but a truer self, by holding both in balance.

Thus, let this teaching be remembered: train widely, but treasure what makes you different. Be thankful for the discipline that strengthens you, and even more thankful for the gifts that make you irreplaceable. For it is in this sacred union that true mastery and lasting joy are found.