Holding Space for Two Truths
The scariest thing about life is that it can change at any moment.
The best thing about life is that it can change at any moment.
For a long time, I didn’t understand that both of these things could be true.
We’re often taught to think in absolutes.
Right or wrong.
Good or bad.
Success or failure.
Stay or leave.
But life rarely feels that simple.
The older I get, the more I realise that many of the things I once thought were contradictions can exist side by side.
I can be devastated that my marriage ended.
I can be deeply sad and hurt by the loss of some old friendships, and some new ones that never became what I hoped they would.
And I can be grateful for who I have become because of these losses.
I can miss the life I thought I would have.
And be excited about the life I am building.
I can feel fear about the future.
And curiosity about what it might bring.
Two truths can coexist.
In fact, they often do.
When we believe that change is only something to fear, we want to hold on tightly.
We become cautious.
Protective.
Afraid to take risks.
Afraid to lose what we have.
But when I recognise that change can also bring growth, connection, joy, and possibility, something shifts.
I become more open.
More curious.
More willing to trust myself.
Maybe life isn’t asking us to choose between fear and hope.
Maybe it’s asking us to hold both.
To acknowledge the loss without denying the possibility.
To honour the grief without losing sight of the joy.
To accept that something can be painful and beautiful at the same time.
Learning how to make space for multiple truths has changed more than the way I view my own life.
It has changed the way I think about relationships, friendships, and conflict.
So much harm comes from believing there can only be one truth.
One right perspective.
One valid experience.
One version of events.
But people can experience the same situation differently.
What matters is not always deciding who is right and who is wrong.
What matters is our willingness to hear and understand someone else’s experience without dismissing it simply because it doesn’t match our own.
You can be deeply sad about losing the life you thought you would have forever.
And excited about discovering a life you never imagined was possible.
If both of those things can be true at once, what other truths might we be forcing ourselves to choose between?
And how might our relationships change if we spent less time deciding who is right, and more time trying to understand each other’s experiences?