
Most of us are pretty good at dealing with dilemmas.
Much of our professional training, and education more broadly has taught us how to analyse options, weigh pros and cons, and make a choice.
A dilemma presents us with an either/or:
- this option or that one
- yes or no
- stay or go
And while dilemmas can be uncomfortable, they usually come with an implicit promise: if you choose well, the discomfort will ease.
Paradox is different.
But before going there, it’s worth staying for a moment with dilemmas, because they’re familiar territory for most of us, and they often show up in very ordinary professional moments, especially in situations where there’s pressure, responsibility, and something at stake.
A familiar dilemma
I noticed a dilemma recently at a networking event.
Someone was talking about wanting to secure work with a client. The client hadn’t followed up with a yes.
From the outside, it seemed possible the client simply needed more time, perhaps to explore other options or decide whether the work with this person and this time was right for them.
What I could also see was how financial pressure might be shaping the consultant’s approach. Their focus was on pushing the sale forward and securing the deal.
And in that moment, I felt my own dilemma arise.
Do I say something about what might genuinely serve both consultant and client here: something about space, time, the dangers of pushing a client into premature action – or do I keep quiet?
Yes there was a potential ethical question here. But I was a participant, not the facilitator, and not the supervisor. I didn’t even know this person. I do know offering unsolicited advice seldom helps. And I imagine the client is perfectly able to make their own decision.
I weighed it up and chose not to speak.
This is a common dilemma in professional life: one I’ve experienced myself – the financial pressure dilemma.
Financial pressure doesn’t necessarily make us unethical, but pretending it isn’t there can compromise our judgement, and sometimes the client’s wellbeing too.
Dilemmas like this ask us to choose.
- Speak or stay silent.
- Push or pause.
- Protect income or protect the relationship.
And again, there’s that familiar promise:
if you choose well, the discomfort will ease.
Here are some other examples I see frequently in my own life and in my work with others:
- Short term or long term
- Freedom or responsibility
- Structure or flexibility
- Control or adaptability
- Reflection or action
- Go with the flow or take a stand
When choosing doesn’t resolve things
Unlike the example above, a paradox doesn’t ask us to decide between two options.
It asks us to recognise that two truths remain true at the same time, even when they pull in opposite directions.
For example:
- the need to act and the need to wait
- loyalty to others and loyalty to self
- structure and freedom
- confidence and humility
In these situations, choosing one side doesn’t bring relief. It often creates a new form of tension, because something essential has been left behind.
This is usually the moment people feel most unsettled.
Not because they lack intelligence or courage, but because the usual strategies no longer work.
Why paradox feels like failure (at first)
In contexts that prize decisiveness and clarity, which includes most work or business cultures, encountering paradox can feel like personal inadequacy.
We tell ourselves:
- I should be clearer by now.
- Other people seem to manage this.
- Why can’t I just decide and move on?
But paradox isn’t just confusion.
It’s a signal that the situation you’re in can’t be reduced without losing something important.
The discomfort isn’t only about feeling stuck. It also means the question you’re facing is larger than a simple answer.
The temptation to collapse the tension
When faced with paradox, most of us try to make it go away. We might:
- over‑identify with one side and discount the other
- rationalise the loss of the other as the price we have to pay
- turn a both/and situation back into either/or
This often brings short‑term relief.
But over time, the sidelined truth tends to return; as dissatisfaction, resentment, fatigue, or a sense of living slightly out of alignment.
Paradox doesn’t disappear when ignored.
It waits.
What it means to “stay”
When I talk about staying with paradox, I don’t mean passivity, procrastination or never-ending vacillation.
I mean something more demanding.
Staying involves:
- resisting the urge for premature resolution
- allowing yourself to feel the pull of both sides
- becoming curious about what each truth is protecting or calling for
This requires a different kind of strength: not the strength to push through, but the strength to recognise and hold complexity without collapsing it.
Over time, something subtle can happen.
Not a solution, exactly, but a shift in perspective.
A sense of standing somewhere that can see the whole, rather than being caught inside one part of it.
Paradox as a sign of maturity
One of the insights that emerges through coaching and reflective practice is that paradox often appears later, not earlier, in development.
As self-awareness grows, we become less willing to simplify what we care about. We notice contradictions we previously glossed over. This is a sign that our capacity for seeing, and holding, complexity is expanding.
In this sense, paradox is not a problem to solve.
It’s a capacity to grow into.
The risks of misunderstanding paradox
Paradox can open something important, but it also has its own risks.
When we first begin to recognise complexity, it can be tempting to retreat into “everything depends” or “there are no right answers.”
At its best, this stance encourages humility, curiosity and tolerance. But taken too far, it can quietly slide into disengagement, where nothing is named clearly, and responsibility becomes blurred.
I notice this in myself at times.
In difficult conversations, especially when there’s strong feeling or difference, I can slip into generalisations or black‑and‑white thinking to escape the discomfort. At other times, I can do the opposite, staying so open that I avoid taking a stand at all.
Neither response really honours paradox.
Staying with paradox doesn’t mean abandoning values or dissolving everything into “it’s all relative.” It means holding complexity without losing discernment, and staying connected to what matters while resisting premature certainty.
This is delicate work.
And it’s one reason paradox isn’t a concept to master, but a capacity to practise.
A different relationship with certainty
Living well with paradox doesn’t mean abandoning action or clarity.
It means learning how to recognise when clarity is possible, and when it isn’t yet. And when we don’t have clarity yet to frame any actions as experiments.
It means trusting that some forms of movement only become available after we’ve stayed with the tension long enough for something new to emerge.
Not from forcing an answer, but from deepened understanding.
Standing in the question
A dilemma asks you to choose.
A paradox asks you to stay; attentive, honest, and present, when the way forward isn’t immediately clear.
That’s not an easy ask.
But in many areas of life and work, it may be the most faithful response available.
And staying doesn’t mean nothing happens. It means learning how to act without collapsing complexity – how to move forward while keeping both truths in view.
Reflective question:
Where in your life or work might you be facing a paradox, and what would it mean to stay with it a little longer, rather than trying to resolve it too quickly?
This piece is part of an ongoing series of practice‑based writing from Wise Goose, exploring coaching, meaning, ambivalence and transition as they show up in real work and real lives.
These reflections grow out of our coach training and supervision work, where we focus not on fixing complexity, but on learning how to stay present with it.

