Pain and joy oftentimes live right next to each other. And that’s my experience of the month of August: August is the month where I endured the most pain and trauma that I’ve ever experienced in my life. And it’s also the month where I’ve grown to stand in awe of how much healing and hope and good can be infused in seemingly hopeless and despairing circumstances.

Culturally, it’s uncomfortable to acknowledge both pain and joy at the same time, and sometimes (or maybe a lot of times), that’s exactly what life is. If our experience of pain doesn’t obscure our vision for joy, that is.

This August– the 13th since that summer afternoon when my car rolled 7 times off the freeway– I am viscerally reminded of this both/and reality:

I acknowledge both the grotesque pain my body endured and the residual pain I still experience directly from my car accident. And, at the same time, my eyes light up when I become aware of the truth that my brain and body amazingly survived, and healed. I’ve learned how to make life work again. In a beautifully unique way, that works for me. (Note: There were many “experts” along the way who said I would not live and I would not live how I’m living today).

It doesn’t take much to be frightened and dismayed by all the pain in our lives and world. In fact, I think it’s pretty hard not to feel like we’re trapped by pain. And when pain seems to be ever-present, it can definitely take perseverance and intentionality to try to become aware of good. Even still, though, I wonder … if we could try?

What if we gently tried to acknowledge the pain (in place of dwelling on it or numbing from it) and then intentionally tried to be on the lookout for…. good, too?

I am smiling right now as I write this. I notice a deep breath. I am physiologically strengthened when I validate all of my experience– including pain– and then let myself sense into the good and miracles and hope and joy that surely do live alongside everything else.

It’s indelibly both/and.