The food lover understands discord. We seek out skilled chefs who can craft harmonious dishes built from disparate flavors. We marvel at the balance of savory and sweet (fatty piece of earthy foie gras glazed with a crackling caramel glaze), earthy and acidic (a perfect oyster topped with a spoonful of a red-wine and shallot vinaigrette), and salty and sweet (a butterscotch pudding finished with Maldon sea salt).
So then, why is it this food lover gets so confused by the existence of dissonant emotions? Why can’t I feel comfortable with a moment of joy during a moment of crisis? Why shouldn’t I feel a simple happiness during a grief-stricken moment?
I understand how opposing flavors can be compelling and intriguing. But when it comes to holding opposing emotions—fear and excitement, joy and pain, grief and happiness—at the same exact moment, I start to question the validity of my experience. How can I smile when someone I love wants nothing more than to die?
Can we accept the existence of problems—major and minor alike–and still accept the joy, happiness, and pleasures that come our way?
Thanks to an epiphany about acceptance, I’m starting to think the answer is yes.
Life is bittersweet, salty, tart, and lots of other things in between. There’s room for joy and pain in the same instant.