The contradictions are everywhere.
In what people say and what they do.
In what I say and what I do.
In the places where stories don’t quite line up.
I used to try to force coherence where none existed. Now I don’t.
That isn’t confusion. It’s clarity.
Truth lives in the contradictions.
Because perception is exactly that—perception. It belongs to each person, each version of that person, and it shifts with every circumstance. There’s a contradiction between who I am and what he says, between what she believes and what I know to be true. Between what I think, what you see, and what actually is. Between our passions, our dreams, and the things we manage to carry into real life.
Truth is in all of it.
In the scared spaces and the sacred places.
So what do we do with them?
Nothing.
We sit with them.
We learn how to exist in what we see, what they show, what we are, and what we might still become. We recognize our faults and grow through them. We accept that sometimes our head, our heart, and our soul are speaking different languages—and none of them are wrong.
Because even though we are one, we are also many.
There are twenty-three versions of me.
Maybe twenty-five versions of you.
Each one contradicting something we once believed to be true.
And that’s okay.
It isn’t confusion. It’s clarity.
It’s noticing what’s been seeping beneath the surface and allowing it into the light. We don’t have to explain it. We don’t have to fix it. We don’t even have to act on it.
Sometimes, it’s enough to know this:
truth lives in the contradictions.
And sometimes, that knowing is a place all on its own.
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