I find one of the hardest things in life can be recognizing a truth I wish weren’t true. I come up with all sorts of interpretations of a moment or situation that give me a false sense of control, give me a more palatable version of whatever is happening, or help me stay in denial. When you strip away the interpretations and bargaining, however, what you’re left with is still the truth. It’s “what’s so” in that moment.
When we deny or avoid what’s so, we can’t cope with it. Recognizing the truth of a moment doesn’t mean we LIKE it. It doesn’t mean we’re not going to work to change it for the future. It doesn’t mean it isn’t unfair or gut wrenching or scary. The truth can be downright awful. AND, it is always still just the truth.
I am reminded of a time when my children were little. My son was really struggling, having multiple violent meltdowns per week. My professional life was on hold. I was exhausted and scared and tapped out. My husband was working on commission and was giving everything he had to making sure he could support whatever extra services our son might need. I remember going to him one night, feeling afraid of our disconnection and resentful that he wasn’t helping out more with the kids. I told him I was upset and needed more. He looked right at me and said he didn’t have any more to give. It was the biggest gift he could have given us. It that moment, though, it felt like a gut punch, and I remember wanting to scream at him and demand more. Instead, his recognition of the truth deflated my self-righteous anger and left us both sitting in what was so. We were both tapped out. We were both giving absolutely everything we had to our family and in that moment it wasn’t enough. That was the truth. Suddenly, we weren’t quietly resenting that the other was holding something back. We were in the fire together. And that, somehow, even though nothing was okay, was enough. That is the power of what’s so.
When I’m running late, I can beat myself up, or try to drive faster, or make up an excuse to cover for myself. Or, I can take a deep breath and remind myself that what’s so is that I decided to shower and now I’m late. It is what it is. Trying to pretend it’s something else or change it sets me up for more problems (lying or a speeding ticket in this case). When we are trying to get out the door for some event and everyone is melting down in their own ways, I can yell at everyone to buck up and push forward with the plan. Or, I can look around, recognize that we are all tired and cranky and accept that as our reality in that moment. It doesn’t matter if I think my kid’s reason for being a grump is legitimate, his mood is what it is. Once I’ve accurately read the mood, then I can either push us with compassion if we really need to do this thing or call it a day and give us all a rest.
In life’s big moments and all the little ones in between, the truth is always just the truth. We can hide from it, or we can see it. I’m always going to be the one advocating for us to stare it right in the face and say hello. Whatever the truth is, we’ve got this.
Sincerely,
Natalie Whiteford, PhD
