The Space Between: Embracing Life’s Dualities

The Weight of Both Sides

I exist in the space between—between urgency and hesitation, between wanting to do more and fearing I’ve already given too much.

Guilt is a double-edged thing. It cuts when I stand still, whispering that I should be moving, should be chasing, should be fixing. But when I shape my world around this pursuit, when I sacrifice ease for effort, it returns, just as sharp—asking if I have lost myself to the chase.

I want to be present, but I also want to be prepared. I want to answer every call, but I also want to hear my own voice. The push and pull of these desires make a home in my chest, neither settling nor leaving.

Perhaps duality is not a burden, but proof of depth. Maybe the tension is not failure, but the pulse of a life deeply felt.

Duality is often seen as contradiction, as if holding two opposing truths at once is a flaw to be corrected. But what if it’s not a flaw at all? What if it’s evidence of a life that is engaged, a heart that refuses to settle for easy answers?

To feel guilt for not doing enough and also for doing too much—this is not a sign of failure. It is a sign of care, of passion, of wanting to exist meaningfully in a world that constantly asks for more. The tension we feel is not a defect; it is the pulse of something alive, the movement of a mind and soul grappling with what it means to be whole.

To feel both the urge to give and the need to protect oneself is not weakness, but wisdom. It is an understanding that we are layered beings, that depth is not found in singularity but in the ability to hold complexity without being broken by it.

Perhaps duality is not a weight to carry, but a rhythm to move with. Maybe it is not something to resolve, but something to honor—a testament to a life that does not shy away from feeling everything, fully.