Two Truths Can Exist at the Same Time

An essay on striking the right balance.

Two truths can exist at the same time.

I am ridden by constant, uncontrollable anxiety and a simultaneous lust for life’s intricacies. I am both blessed and conflicted. Often overjoyed, but occasionally dreadful. Emotions come and go, come and go. That level of human unpredictably is both exciting and slightly perturbing.

We often fear what we don’t understand. I’m unaware of everything there is to know, but I sure wish I did. Thinking, caring, and building — these truly develop that sense of interpersonal compassion and connection. To listen. To converse. To feel.

Even the deepest trenches have berms on either side. Abundant crises continue to surface and then gradually deflate, perhaps as history’s way of understanding its ebbs and flows.

Woe is me, woe is you. It is vital to understand that a chronically online presence is elusive. Your knowledge and reactive feelings carry a relentless burden far from home. Contrary to our insensate doom scrolls — media has numbed humans to the suffering of others, exaggerates conflicting opinions, and widens this fictional gap between you and your neighbors.

This is how it’s always been. Manipulative human behavior was birthed during the advent of society, purposefully leading others astray in an attempt to formulate ‘necessary’ agendas. Dynasties, leaderships, serfdoms — no corporate or capitalistic system exists without deterrence from empathy. 

Learning to float in the weathered tide requires patience and perseverance. It also requires taking back the brain, strengthening solidarity, trading local resources, laughing as an act of protest, being impeccable with your truth, and examining your life well lived. It’s okay to be lost, to be confused. You’ll question your job, your relationship, what your everlasting purpose entails, or why you’re even alive… If that happens, you’re doing it right.

The other month, I giggled uncontrollably over a TikTok my best friend made, cried heavily the following morning at my bodily insecurities, and ended the night drinking organic cider in a sun-drenched garden with new friends. I often wonder what I’ll feel next month or next year. I then rejoice in knowing that it doesn’t matter at all. 

You’ll have great hair on a shitty day. You’ll argue with your spouse on what’s the best day of vacation. A too-sour of grapefruit works perfectly in margaritas. A happy dog drags mud on your favorite rug.

Two truths can exist at the same time.