Some handicapping authors will attempt to tell you mechanical answers to key horse racing questions. They’ll tell you exactly when to pass a race. They’ll tell you what characteristics to look for in a winner. And, they’ll tell you when to bet more or less. Unlike these others, however, I do not profess to have any specific answers to these or other handicapping questions. But, I do know, like almost everything related to successful and joyful handicapping, that the answers have something to do with an amorphous concept known as balance.

Even prior to my horseracing obsession, I have had a longstanding flirtation with Taoist thought. I’ve read the pop culture classics, such as The Tao of Pooh, and I’ve also dug into some pretty heady texts. I usually find that the Eastern perspective counters many of the stressful tendencies of Western culture. And, although I’m far from an expert in applying Taoist beliefs (and my current beliefs may not even be a terribly accurate primer on Taoism), I am greatly influenced by the thinking I have done about the concepts of harmony and balance. And, unsurprisingly, I find that these ideas have particular application to the life of the horseplayer.

Balance -- it’s a fascinating concept. It is quite easy to conceptualize, but very challenging to explain its specific contours to another, or even ourselves. It has many definitions, but, perhaps, the most appropriate to the horseplayer is a “harmonious or satisfying arrangement or proportion of parts or elements.” Balance is the place where everything is weighed in a manner that matches your internal equilibrium. Finding it, however, is quite difficult; determining how to weigh the parts harmoniously throws many a horseplayer off. Yet, due to its high level of subjectivity, only an individual can find the lines -- those equidistant places between appropriate factors -- for him or herself.

This need for balance appears everywhere in the handicapping life. To name but a few, we see it:

* between recklessness and courage;
* between applying the multitude of handicapping factors and angles;
* between greed and value;
* between the states of jubilation and despair; and
* between horse racing and the rest of our lives.

To be a successful horseplayer, we must determine where the line lies among all these dilemmas for ourselves. How much looseness in handicapping and wagering is too much? Do you favor speed over class? What about form over pedigree? Do you feel invincible when you are winning and insecure when you are losing? And how much time away do you need away from the game ­ not only to recharge and clear the mind of the success and failures, but also to expose yourself to life’s other wonders? Does the handicapping life allow for diversions, or must it led with near monastic dedication and solitude to be successful?

I find I cannot define, or even describe, what makes up the balance in my game or how I specifically answer these questions. I wouldn’t be surprised if you could not verbalize accurate answers to them, either. And yet, it’s completely unimportant to be able to describe this wisdom in words. Because even though particular answers may be indefinable, you can still feel the proper balance and see it reflected in your bottom line. It’s that infinitely complex something that makes the human mind a much better handicapper than the most powerful of computers.

Thus, I don’t profess to have your answers to the any of the above questions. What I do know, however, is that understanding your proper balance and finding the appropriate lines is an essential part -- perhaps, the essential part -- to a good handicapping life. At the races, acting in internal harmony truly does separate the successful from the incompetent, and the happy from the miserable.

In next week’s column: Taking a break from the philosophy of handicapping, I’ll be focusing a bit on the only absolutely necessary element of horse racing….the horse.

You can contact Seth at: sdabrams@gmail.com