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When two different things are true…

I’ve always been someone who can see every side of a situation.  Maybe it’s the Gemini in me, maybe it’s because I grew up with two parents who came at situations from different sides, or maybe I’m just wired this way.  Either way, it’s served me well. 

As a mental health professional, as a business and life coach, and as a leader–this ability to see an issue from every possible angle has been crucial to my work.  No matter the situation, I can feel empathy and see possibilities. 

Of course, every strength has a shadow side–I can struggle with decision making because I see how any direction I turn there’s a possible solution.  

Many of you know by now that I’ve been diagnosed with cancer.

Throughout the process of diagnosis, surgery and treatment planning, I’ve noticed myself holding two seemingly opposite truths at the same time. 

I have this thing I do with my hands to remind myself that two things can be true at the same time.  I hold my arms out straight in front of me, my hands in fists, and I hold steady–reminding myself that it is ok to believe both truths at the same time.  That in fact, it’s one of those strange paradoxes of life. There are multiple (different) truths in any given situation. 

Here are the 2 truths that keep coming up for me:

I am in deep grief.  

I’m grieving my physical body never looking the same ever again.  

I’m grieving the loss of my health innocence.  I now know deep in my bones that so much of our health and our longevity is out of our control. I’m not saying there’s nothing we can do for our health; however, I also know that sometimes the spinning wheel arrow just lands on you no matter what you’ve done to try and control it.  

I’m grieving the loss of my youth.  I don’t mean getting wrinkles and gray hair.  I mean this process is aging me and due to having a hormone receptive cancer, I will be put into menopause well before what’s “typical”.

I’m grieving the loss of the self I knew. Cancer is now a part of my story and that will never go away.  Some things will never be the same as they were BC (before cancer) and that makes me so sad.

I could keep going–there are so many losses, so many things to mourn. Yet that is not the entire story, so let’s move on to the next truth…

I am in deep gratitude.  

I’m grateful for being grounded in steadiness, positivity and clarity. This isn’t toxic positivity, I assure you–the grief is there and it’s real. Yet as deep as I feel that grief down to my bones, I feel gratitude just as deeply. In some ways I’m realizing I’ve been preparing for this moment my entire life. This community I’ve built, the resilience I’ve had to cultivate, the deep sense of self I own–it’s what holding me steady and allowing me to feel positive and hopeful in the midst of so much uncertainty.  

I’m grateful for my family and my community.  The writer Anne Lamont says the three essential prayers are help, thanks and wow. I’m feeling that so deeply right now. My people have shown up for me in ways I never imagined. I am deeply loved and supported and that has never been more evident than this moment in time.  

I’m grateful for my intellect and resourcefulness.  This process is tricky and frustrating at times and frankly pretty difficult to navigate. I cannot imagine how hard it would be for someone without the resources I have.  

I’m grateful for the life and business I’ve set up for myself that’s allowing me to take the time off I need in order to move through this process.

I’m grateful for having every creature comfort imaginable to make this as comfortable and endurable as possible.  

I could go on–there are too many gratitudes to count. And what a wonderful, beautiful thing. 

Here’s what I hope you walk away with after reading this–We don’t have to BE just one thing or FEEL  just one thing.  We can be and feel lots of different things all at the same time.  One doesn’t diminish the other.  

Over the next many months, you may see me on a day that I can only access deep grief or on a day where deep gratitude is at the forefront–and that’s okay.  I believe in giving ourselves the grace to be more than one thing even when one threatens to take us over.  That moment will pass (it always does), and both things will become more accessible again. 

My truth in this journey is that grief and gratitude are always there, and they’re both necessary to support me in moving forward.