Both/And thinking [the opposite of either/or thinking] recognizes the folly of assuming that the new will totally supplant the old. Seeing with Both/And eyes recognizes that two opposite realities can be integrated.
Adapted from Daniel Burrus at Burrus Research
Today’s repost is certainly one worth sharing again!
Today marks two months and two weeks since my beloved, Daniel Paul Neff, took his last breath.
He was luckier than some AND had it harder than others.
Dan was independent AND interdependent.
As I consider him from this new vantage point, I value our unique differences AND I find that I am not myself without him.
How are you?
I’m okay . . .
I’m lost, actually.
I am not myself.
But I’m okay . . .
At two months and two weeks of being in this new state called “widowhood” time feels the trickster AND I wonder if I am in time, on time, out of time, or if I’m in some sort of strange time-out.
Something in me reminds me it is time to do this or that and I reply, “It’s time to take a nap.”
How are you?
I’m okay . . .
If you don’t count
the
crying
episode
in the veterinarian’s office
when I imagined
my dog
dead
before morning.
But I’m okay.
As a widow, I am now totally and completely in charge of my life without any requirement to run my decisions by anyone AND I desperately miss that guy whose voice always helped me to know that everything will be okay.
Like object and reflection, both are real. My competence stands right next to the solace I gained from him. The loss of him stands right next to the larger-than-life presence that I miss.
I’ve heard it said that there is a time for everything.
If that’s true, then there is a time for knowing and a time for not knowing;
a time for feeling loss and a time for tuning into a new kind of awareness of him;
a time for tears and a time for laughter;
a time for emptiness and a time for grateful remembering.
How are you?
I’m okay . . .
Really.
I am.
Even though
I’m wreaked.
Even though
I’ll never the same again.
But I’m okay.
Thanks for asking.
—a widow
Today I am conscious that there is a time to keep going.
Today I choose to keep going AND in certain moments I don’t really know how to do that.
Today I choose to
reach out
and
look for that which will
help me
to keep going.
Today I am sad AND I am happy . . . as I travel the land of both/and.