Can You Hold Joy and Pain at the Same Time? 😩😊
There’s something I’ve been sitting with for a while.
It's a conversation I’ve had many times, but never quite grasped.
Since starting a Kabbalah course recently, it’s started to land more deeply, not just in my mind, but in my body and heart.
And I felt called to share it with you, in case it stirs something in you too.
Kabbalah is an ancient Jewish spiritual tradition that explores how the universe works and how deeply connected everything is, including us.
One of the first things I learned was about the sefirot. They are ten divine qualities or energies that flow from a higher power. These energies shape both our inner world and the world around us.
You can think of them as ten spiritual “lenses” that help us connect to life and to something greater.
So far, I’ve been learning about three of them:
Chesed means loving-kindness, generosity, open-hearted giving
Gevurah means strength, boundaries, discernment, healthy restraint
Tiferet means balance, compassion, harmony, radiance, and beauty
Tiferet sits in the middle. It balances the polarities of Chesed and Gevurah, where one gives without holding back, and the other knows when to say no.
Tiferet is the wisdom of the heart, it knows when to open up, and when to hold steady. It’s where love becomes grounded in truth.
My teacher described it beautifully with a parenting example:
If a parent is only in Chesed, they may give too much. It might look kind, but over time, a child can feel overwhelmed or even unsafe.
If a parent is only in Gevurah, they may seem distant or too strict and cold.
But when Tiferet is present, there’s discernment. The parent knows when to hold, when to hug, and always acts from love not from fear and not from control.
Tiferet is love with wisdom. It's Love in balance.
There’s a quote from Rabbi Yael Levy that touched something deep within me.
Tiferet guides us to be spacious enough to be with the truth of all that is.
Present to joy, amazement, beauty
And present with suffering, pain, and devastation.
Soften your heart,
Expand your awareness, Tiferet calls,
So pain does not deny joy,
And delights do not dismiss suffering.
Tiferet teaches that as we hold joy and sorrow together,
Our hearts break open,
Releasing a flow of Infinite Compassion
That helps us turn toward each other and find pathway of healing and peace.
Why am I sharing all this?
Because I see something in myself that I couldn’t quite name before.
When I’m in pain, I often feel like joy has disappeared, like it’s gone forever. I get completely caught in the experience of suffering, and everything gets coloured by it.
It’s like pain takes over my whole lens, and joy doesn’t even get a seat at the table.
But what I’m starting to realise is that this isn’t the full story.
What if, as humans, we’re meant to hold it all - the joy and the pain all at the same time?
What if we’re actually capable of that?
That perspective gives me hope. It means I can look for the joy, even in hard moments. It means I can support myself in a more nourishing way, not by trying to fix or escape the pain, but by also letting in the beauty that still exists alongside it.
Because pain is part of being human. There’s no getting around it.
And so is joy.
A few weeks ago in Queenstown, I took a flight to Milford Sound — one of the most stunning nature experiences I’ve had. But even in that beauty, my thoughts were split.
With one part of me, I saw jagged, uneven mountains with strange shapes, rough edges and harsh colours.
And with another part of me, I saw something simply magnificent. Breathtaking.
And it hit me: How can something be ugly and beautiful at the same time?
Because life is like that. It just is.
That quote from class came back to me, and everything made sense.
Joy and pain. Beauty and mess. Grief and laughter. They all live side by side.
When we allow space for all of it, instead of trying to pick one and get rid of the other, something softens inside us.
We stop thinking there’s something wrong with us when we’re not feeling great.
We stop chasing “happy” and start welcoming the fullness of being human.
And from that place, we can:
Hold ourselves with more compassion
Stay present, even when things are hard
Remember that joy hasn’t vanished, it might just be quiet, waiting
Appreciate the contrast, the way dark and light make a painting come alive
I saw this with my beautiful 5-month-old niece yesterday. Her tiny lip trembled, curled up, and a tear rolled down her cheek. Then, in the same breath, she lit up with this glowing infectious smile full of delight. And then again, the trembling lip, the tear, the smile, even a giggle.
She was feeling it all. Fully. Without resisting any of it.
That’s what wholeness looks like.
Not perfection. Not endless joy. Just full presence.
And that understanding? It feels like coming home.
It opens the heart. It helps us breathe deeper, meet ourselves with softness, and offer the same to those around us.
I’m not saying I live this all the time. I’m still figuring it out, like all of us.
But I’m softening around this truth.
And that softening… it feels really, really good.
I invite you to be curious …
I invite you to be curious …
When you’re in moments of pain, how often do you still notice joy, even in small ways?
Do you find yourself trying to push pain away, or can you let it be there without needing to fix it?
What helps you stay kind to yourself when you’re not feeling your best?