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In the middle of July, I received a voice message on WhatsApp from my cousin in São Paulo.

“Can I talk to you?” he asked with a trembling voice.

I pressed the green phone icon next to his name, Cali, on my silver cell phone.

“Tio Juani, meu pai [my father] is in intensive care in the hospital; they did an MRI,” he said slowly while struggling to catch his breath.
“Do you have the medical report?”
“I just sent it to you.”
“Give me a second, I want to go over it.”

As I read the two-page report on the small screen of my phone, my eyes began to fill with tears. There wasn’t any medical procedure that could be done to protect my Tio Juani. His time was slipping away.

“How much time do I have to see him?”
“Would I make it to São Paulo on time?”

At the beginning of August, my kitty, Melli Milagrocito, became incontinent for five days. He had been diagnosed with cancer two months ago, and despite his sweetness, tenderness, and regular appetite, he had other medical conditions that made things very complicated for him: positive feline IV, kidney problems, heart murmur, and anemia.

“Is today the day to give him peace?”
“What if this incontinence is just a fleeting shadow?”
“He has bounced back so many times; is this the final time to let him go?”

At various points in our lives, we’re confronted with the need to make a decision with no good options ahead of us.

I honestly didn’t know whether I should jump on a plane to São Paulo to say goodbye to my uncle or continue with all the scheduled demands I had already (e.g., sessions with clients, workshops, writing commitments, meetings, deadlines).

I didn’t know whether to give Melli Milagrocito a death with dignity that day or wait a few more days for the incontinence to pass, hoping it would fade.

Staying in the Bay Area felt wrong because I was far away from the family.
Traveling to São Paulo at the last minute didn’t feel right either because there wasn’t a guarantee I’d make it on time.
Calling a vet for in-home euthanasia felt wrong because I wasn’t sure I was exploring all possibilities of medical care for Melli Milagrocito.
Waiting for the incontinence to pass felt wrong too because little Melli Milagrocito was sleeping most of the time, dragging his leg when going to drink water, and just existing in a world of shadows.

I searched tirelessly for the right answer, the right choice, the right decision in both situations. I looked up plain tickets, played different scenarios in my head, reached out to close friends, and talked with some relatives.

I was hoping for the right decision that would lift the weight of doubt, guilt, and uncertainty from my shoulders.

I yearned to do the right thing as a niece, cousin, daughter, friend, and animal lover.

I didn’t find any.

Regardless of all the logistics and how thoughtful I was trying to be, all the options in front of me felt like stepping into the unknown.

I turned to Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT).

ACT (pronounced as one word) is an evidence-based treatment that integrates cutting-edge behavioral science and eastern principles. There are six core psychological processes at the core of the ACT model, clarifying your values one of those processes.

Your values are the life principles you want to stand for; they give you purpose and direction in every step you take. They are not goals or destinations but rather a compass that you can rely on at all times. Your values are the whispers of your heart, guiding you to be who you aspire to be.

Living your values has nothing to do with your emotions – which come and go, – or with what feels logical in the moment.

A values-based life is not about doing things perfectly all the time or measuring the size of your actions; it’s about choosing to put what’s truly important to you in the driver’s seat, aligning your being with your doing, even when the road is rough and the path uncertain.

Living your values is like finding a lighthouse in the storm.

As I was going through this emotional rollercoaster, I turned to the questions I often ask my clients:

“What do you want to stand for as you go through these painful moments?”
“What matters the most to you in each one of these hurtful circumstances?”
“What would my Tio Juani advise me to do in both situations?”
“What do I need to do to manage the anxiety of making a good-enough choice, not the right one?”

My Tio Juani passed away seven days after the phone call with my cousin. I had many imperfect video calls with him every day. He felt my love and care as he was going in and out of pain meds in his last days.

I held Melli Milagrocito as he took his last breaths in my arms at 4:33 p.m. on a cloudy Monday in the Bay Area.

There are times in which there are simply no good options in front of us.

When my wonderful mind – my glitchy helper – tries to replay and question both decisions, I remind myself that I acted on what truly mattered, as best as I could, in both those difficult moments.