Transcending Suffering Through the Dance of Duality 🌗
Tell me one thing in this human life that people are not suffering.
If they’re poor, they ache from lack.
If they become rich, they drown in taxes, decisions, and distrust.
Uneducated, they yearn for knowledge.
Educated, they groan under pressure and comparison.
Unmarried? Longing.
Married? Complaining.
No children—something’s missing.
Children—now there’s noise, worry, endless concern.
Even death, the ultimate release, is met not with peace—but with fear and clinging.
So, what is it we’re really suffering?
We are not suffering life. We are suffering our resistance to life.
Life itself is not joy.
Nor is it sorrow.
It’s not good.
It’s not bad.
Life… just is.
A raw, infinite, ever-moving phenomenon.
A current.
A wave.
A dance between forms.
It is only our posture—whether we resist it or ride it—that makes it feel either like drowning or flying.
We’ve been taught to fear the dark, to crave only the light.
To avoid silence, and chase noise.
To curse pain, and cling to pleasure.
But contrast is not our enemy.
It is our mirror.
Without the shadow, you cannot see the brilliance of light.
Without the storm, the stillness means nothing.
Without limitation, freedom is meaningless.
The wound and the wonder are not opposites.
They are twins.
One leads you to the other.
Duality is not a war.
It is not the light against the dark.
Not the masculine versus the feminine.
Not the gain versus the loss.
Duality is a dance.
A pulsing, sacred, ever-turning embrace of complementary forces.
The yin is not fighting the yang.
The night is not erasing the day.
They are completing each other.
The moment you realize this—
That duality exists, but division does not—
everything shifts.
When you stop labeling experience as “good” or “bad,” and start asking:
- What is this contrast showing me?
- What is this tension revealing within me?
- What gift is this shadow carrying, disguised as discomfort?
That is the moment you stop suffering over contrast.
You stop resisting the shadow,
because you begin to see it as just another shape of light.
And in that realization—
That everything, everything is simply a different facet of wholeness—
you soften.
You breathe.
You stop the inner war.
You begin to live as the ocean,
not tossed by waves—knowing you are the water.
So ride it.
Every contrast.
Every rise and fall.
Every joy and ache.
For they are not enemies.
They are you.
And they are home coming celebration.
Jojan Hendriks
What you resist, persists. What you accept, transforms.
Suffering is Optional!
Pain is inevitable. Suffering is a choice.

2 responses to “Two Sides of the Same Whole”
Beautiful
Thank you for this perspective with such concrete exemplification.
I love the idea that opposition doesn’t require battle; that we can look at opposites and not feel required to choose sides, but to appreciate both.