What Is Truth? A Doctor’s Reflection on Balance

 Reflections – 3

Truth is a powerful word. It’s something we all seek — in science, in relationships, in life. As a doctor, I rely on truth every day: test results, diagnoses, research, and facts that guide treatment. But beyond the clinic walls, I have often wondered — is truth always clear? Is it always the same for everyone? Or is the deepest truth not a fixed point, but something we discover through balance?

This dilemma troubled me deeply and led me to read extensively... and then came a day that brought it all into focus.

The Day I Met Two Truths

I remember a particular day in my clinic — not so different from others, yet it has stayed with me for years.

Two women came to me that morning. Both were pregnant, around the same age, and both were facing complications. But their stories could not have been more different.

The first woman was deeply anxious. Her reports were normal — the baby was growing well, no medical signs of trouble — yet she was overwhelmed with fear. “I don’t feel connected to the baby,” she whispered. I had always believed that maternal connection was instinctive, so her words unsettled me.

The second woman, on the other hand, had concerning scans. Her baby was smaller than expected, showing early signs of growth restriction. But she was calm, even smiling. “I know it looks worrying,” she said, “but I feel strong. My baby and I are okay.” I found myself wondering — was she a Type A personality?

Here was my truth: medically, the second woman needed more urgent care. But emotionally, the first woman needed me more. If I had focused only on the reports, I would have missed her silent suffering. And if I had ignored the scan of the second, I might have jeopardized her baby’s health.

That day, I learned that I must avoid being judgmental and treat both as bearers of different truths. One truth was written in lab results, the other on a woman’s face. I had to balance action with empathy, science with instinct. And in doing so, I realized: truth is not always either/or. Sometimes, it is both.

There Are Many Shades of Truth

At its simplest, truth is traditionally defined as “that which corresponds to reality” — the Correspondence Theory. If I say “The sun rises in the east” and it does, then it is truth.

Other major theories include:

Coherence Theory: A statement is true if it fits into a coherent system of beliefs — like how mathematical theorems are validated.

Pragmatic Theory: Truth is what works or proves useful in practice.

Constructivist Theory: Truth is constructed by social processes, influenced by history and culture.

These varied interpretations point to a crucial realization: while objective truths do exist — especially in science and mathematics — many subjective truths vary with individual experience, belief, and context. What one person holds as true may not carry the same meaning for another — and both can still be valid.

It is in this ambiguity that the idea of balance as truth begins to emerge.

So, Does Truth Exist?

Yes — in many practical and scientific contexts, truth is real and measurable (e.g., gravity exists; the Earth orbits the sun). These are objective truths.

But in the subjective realms — ethics, aesthetics, personal experience — truth becomes more nuanced and individual. Your truth may not be mine, yet both can be real in their own contexts.

Which leads me to a deeper question:

Or is it balance that is the ultimate truth?

This is a profound concept — and one that many Eastern philosophies, including Buddhism and our own Hinduism, uphold. They teach that balance — of opposites, of energies, of desires and duties — is the core of reality.

In this view, truth is not a fixed point but a dynamic equilibrium.

So perhaps, rather than seeking an absolute, we should see truth as a balance between perspectives, desires, realities, and contradictions — a kind of living truth.

Living in the In-Between

To me, each perspective makes sense in its own way. There are medical truths I cannot ignore. But there are also emotional truths my patients bring — in their silence, their stories, their strength. Both matter.

As a gynecologist, a mother, and a woman, I’ve seen how life is rarely black or white. It’s more like a river — flowing, shifting, full of curves. The idea of a middle path has helped me navigate difficult decisions — in treatment, in relationships, even in raising my children.

Balance doesn’t mean standing still. It means moving with awareness. Responding instead of reacting. It means not always choosing between two sides, but sometimes standing in the space between them — with honesty and grace.

Conclusion: My Truth 

As I reflect on that day with the two women, I often return to a line by the poet Rumi:

 “Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, there is a field. I’ll meet you there.”

That field, for me, is the space of balance — where truths are not in conflict, but in conversation. Where the head and the heart don’t compete, but complete each other.

Years later, both women delivered safely. The anxious one became a deeply attuned mother, learning to trust her instincts day by day. The calm one faced challenges but met them with grace and strength. Both taught me that as much as I give to my patients, I also receive — in lessons, in wisdom, in truth.

And so I continue — not just as a doctor who diagnoses, but as a seeker who listens. Because sometimes, the deepest healing lies not in answers, but in the quiet courage to stand in-between.