“Life isn’t a straight line—it’s a journey of rising, questioning, releasing, and beginning again.”  

Making Peace with Your Triangle  

Some people say life is like a bowl of cherries, while others say life is a box of chocolates. Some say life is a circle, ever evolving with no beginning and no end. I proclaim life is like a triangle.  

I know, this sounds odd and a little ridiculous. Have some patience and hear me out.  

I heard about this triangle philosophy either in a lecture or read about the concept in a book during my graduate studies in psychology and counseling thirty-five years ago. The idea stayed with me, maybe because it felt true to my psyche and spirit.  

For this concept to make any sense, you’ll need to either draw or picture a tall triangle. Now draw a line down from the top center to the very bottom, cutting the triangle in half. If you had crayons, you would leave the left side white and color the right side black. The left side represents the ah-ha enthusiastic movement of growth and going forward. The right side represents the natural flow of decline and letting go.  

Every idea, relationship, season, dream, habit, career, year, day, life cycle—everything—starts at the bottom point of the triangle, or what could be the six o’clock position on a clock. As you move up the left side, things feel promising and exciting. You’re hopeful. Energized. Certain. Life feels like a possibility. Then, eventually, you arrive at the top point of the triangle where things feel a little unsteady and uncertain. You begin to question what felt so right just moments before.  

What am I doing in this job?  

What am I doing in this marriage?  

Really, I thought this outfit looked good on me.  

Then, ever so slowly, you begin to descend the darker side of the triangle. Letting go is never easy. You may feel doubt, sadness, or grief as you move downward toward what feels like an ending.  

I’ve lived that descent. When I needed to retire one of my guide dogs—a partner who had walked with me through ordinary errands, extraordinary life changes, storms, sunshine, and thousands of quiet moments—I resisted letting go. I wasn’t ready. I wanted one more day, one more walk, one more breath beside me. The grief felt heavier than expected. And yet, when the time finally came, love led the way. Eventually, a new dog arrived. A new bond formed. And slowly, the climb began again.  

Yet, endings are preparation for whatever is coming next.  

And in time—sometimes sooner, sometimes painfully slow—you will rise again. Because renewal is built into the human spirit. Hope is sewn—stitch by stitch—into our cells.  

The challenge is not avoiding the triangle; it’s making peace with it, especially the letting-go part. If life were only boxes of chocolates or bowls of cherries, letting go would be simple. On the other hand, releasing someone you love, stepping away from a lifelong career, watching your children grow up, or facing your own aging—these moments require tenderness. The grief that comes can take weeks, months, or years before peace returns.  

And yet, as spiritual beings having a human experience, acceptance eventually finds us. Everything has purpose. Everything is in divine order. Soften, breathe, and trust the cycles. The sooner you move through grief and open to love, peace, and meaning again, the sooner you’ll change the way you see and change the way you live.