Two Truths, One Voice
Embracing Life's Dualities
Hi everyone and happy Monday,
As we approach the end of the year, I’ve been thinking a lot about duality—the paradox of holding two truths at once. It’s something I’ve always struggled with: the tension between “this and that,” the messy middle ground. My nervous system, in all its wonderful complexity, isn’t great at ambiguity. It likes clean lines, definitive answers, one clear truth. But life doesn’t work that way, does it?
I’ve felt this tension deeply in my work and in my voice. As a voice coach, I spend so much time helping others find clarity and grounding in their voices, yet I often feel the weight of two competing realities myself. For example, the pull of wanting to push forward and achieve more in my career while knowing rest is necessary. Or the joy I feel in teaching others to explore their voices, alongside the creeping doubt of “Am I doing enough?”
Our nervous systems are wired to crave certainty. When faced with two conflicting truths—joy and sadness, calm and anxiety, fulfillment and restlessness—our bodies can feel stuck, almost frozen. It’s like being caught in an internal tug-of-war. Our voices can reflect this too. Sometimes, they become tight, shaky, or uneven, as if they’re unsure of which direction to go.
But here’s what I’ve learned (and am still learning): the voice doesn’t lie. When I feel torn between two things, I often bring my attention back to my body and my breath. I notice the slight tension in my chest or the shallowness of my inhale. These small physical markers are my nervous system’s way of saying, “You’re trying to hold too much.”
The truth is, it’s hard to hold two things at once. But it’s also deeply human. And for 2025, my resolution is not to fight this duality but to celebrate it. To lean into the richness of “both/and” rather than being torn by it.
I’ve started to think of this duality as part of a song—some notes are bright and bold, while others are softer and more dissonant. Together, they create something whole, something textured, something beautiful. And so, instead of rejecting the dissonance, I’m learning to breathe into it, to notice how my voice feels in those moments, and to welcome the harmony that comes from letting two truths coexist.
This applies to all of us. Maybe you feel torn between ambition and stillness, or between the desire to belong and the need to stand alone. Whatever your dualities may be, I invite you to reflect on them and listen to what your body and voice are telling you.
Here’s a small exercise to try: next time you feel stuck between two emotions, take 30 seconds to ground yourself. Place your feet on the floor, exhale deeply, and say out loud, “Both are true.” Feel how your body responds. Notice if your voice softens or steadies as you hold space for both truths.
As we step into 2025, I hope we can all embrace the paradox of duality with a little more ease. Two things can exist at once. And perhaps, when we stop resisting that, we can find a deeper sense of balance and authenticity—in our voices and in ourselves.
Sending you all my love and a bit of duality to ponder this week,
M x
