Living Between the Light and the Low | Stories from the Path by JBE Mindful Pathways
Stories from the Path | JujuBee Divine Empress
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Some days, the sun shines and I still cry.
Not because something’s gone wrong. Not because I’m falling apart. But because I’m carrying something quietly that no one else sees.
This isn’t a story about grief—not exactly. It’s a story about emotional contrast. About what it feels like to exist in the in-between—when joy and sorrow sit at the same table. When laughter echoes just after tears. When you’re proud of yourself but also feeling incredibly tired.
We talk a lot about extremes. About breakdowns and breakthroughs. But what about the spaces in between? What about the mornings when you sip your coffee, smile at the sunlight, and still feel a lump in your throat for reasons you can’t name?
There are days when everything is working. Work is stable. The kids are okay. Your partner is supportive. And yet—your chest feels heavy. The world around you is moving forward, but you feel paused, suspended somewhere between functioning and feeling.
Maybe no one would guess it just by looking at you. Maybe you’re good at playing the role. At being the helper. The fixer. The strong one. The cheerleader. The healer. Maybe you’ve grown used to smiling through it, telling yourself, “At least it’s not as bad as before.”
(the same way so many do when navigating high-functioning depression.).
But what if we stopped comparing our pain to our pasts? What if we made room for emotional truth without minimizing it? What if we just let ourselves say, out loud, “I’m okay… but also not okay.”
You’re Not Alone in This Gray Space
I wrote this because I needed to. Because I’ve been living in that blurry, nameless space for a while. Because sometimes, you can feel both grateful and grieving. You can be healing and still hurting.
And you don’t need to choose one over the other. You don’t need to explain your joy—or your ache. You just need someone to say, “I see both. I see you.”
So here it is: I see you. I know what it’s like to show up for others when you barely have anything left. I know what it’s like to sit in a room full of people and still feel invisible.
(something I also reflected on in “The Teacher Who Crossed the Line”).
But your emotions aren’t too much. They’re the sacred language of being human.
You’re not broken. You’re not behind. You’re just being real in a world that praises pretending.
Before you go, let this be your reminder: You don’t have to have it all together to be worthy. You don’t have to smile all the time to be seen as strong.
Some days you will radiate. Some days you’ll retreat. Both are okay.
And in the space between the light and the low, you are still growing. You are still enough. You are still you.
Before You Go
If today you find yourself holding emotions you can’t fully explain… If you’ve smiled in a room when you wanted to cry in a corner… If you’re doing your best and it still feels like too much—
This piece was written with you in mind.
Not to fix it. Not to label it. But to meet you there. In the middle. In the gray. In the quiet.
May this remind you: That even in the moments when no one claps for you—your effort matters. That even when your feelings make no sense—your heart is still speaking truth. That even when you’re tired of explaining yourself—your story is still unfolding beautifully.
Stay kind to your spirit. You’re doing better than you think.
With grace, grit, and a love that refuses to quit.
Keep showing up—even when it feels like no one’s watching.
Your presence is powerful.
Your love is building something they’ll one day thank you for.
From one survivor to another—
With strength and softness,
~ Juju Divine Empress
Founder, JBE Mindful Pathways
Wellness Advocate | Writer | Mother | Still Learning, Always Loving…
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