Best-selling author Joey Green once said, "When you experience joy, remembering that 'This too shall pass' helps you savor the here and now. When you experience pain and sorrow, remembering that 'This too shall pass' reminds you that grief, like joy, is only temporary."
This makes so much sense and is good to remember. But when we're knee-deep in grief, it's tough to keep in mind the temporary nature of things. Even when we're up to our eyeballs in joy, we may not take the time to truly savor the feeling. It's easy to forget that it won't last forever.
At this time of year, when many people feel the joy and wonder of the season, others are feeling the pain of it all. They feel alone, depressed, afraid—and the joy of others only makes them more depressed.
What's really important for us all is to be aware of what those around us are feeling. We ought not assume that everyone shares the emotions we feel. Once we notice, we can respond appropriately. This is a good time to be gentle with ourselves and others. It's a good time to practice compassion and self-compassion.
Showing posts with label pain. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pain. Show all posts
Wednesday, December 5, 2018
Friday, November 16, 2018
Shed that pain
My November ezine put forward the thought that when we don't work through our painful experiences to transform that pain, we end up transmitting that pain to others. When our hurts and pain are buried deeply inside us, they still manage to seep out and affect our words and behavior toward others. Sometimes the pain does more than seep—it can explode.
Poet and author Mark Nepo puts it in a different way, but it's essentially the same thing. Here's what he says in his book Inside the Miracle: Enduring Suffering, Approaching Wholeness:
"As we struggle with all we carry, we discover that what is not ex-pressed is de-pressed. It seems the more we express, that is bring out what is in, the more alive we are. The more we give voice to our pain in living, the less buildup we have and so, our inner life fits our outer life more fully."
Nepo says, too, that expressing our pain isn't limited to verbal expressions but can also be done through movement, singing, drumming, dancing or even praying silently. It's simply getting out what is inside!
So shed that pain. Let go. Express it. Let it be transformed. But above all, don't hang onto it and don't shove it down—it won't stay down. Let it out and feel the huge weight fall off your shoulders. Fly free like the beautiful butterfly!
Poet and author Mark Nepo puts it in a different way, but it's essentially the same thing. Here's what he says in his book Inside the Miracle: Enduring Suffering, Approaching Wholeness:
"As we struggle with all we carry, we discover that what is not ex-pressed is de-pressed. It seems the more we express, that is bring out what is in, the more alive we are. The more we give voice to our pain in living, the less buildup we have and so, our inner life fits our outer life more fully."
Nepo says, too, that expressing our pain isn't limited to verbal expressions but can also be done through movement, singing, drumming, dancing or even praying silently. It's simply getting out what is inside!
So shed that pain. Let go. Express it. Let it be transformed. But above all, don't hang onto it and don't shove it down—it won't stay down. Let it out and feel the huge weight fall off your shoulders. Fly free like the beautiful butterfly!
Wednesday, October 31, 2018
Let pain go
Indian mystic Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh, later known simply as Osho, said, "When you become good at the art of letting sufferings go, then you'll come to realize what you were dragging around with you. And for that, no one else other than you was responsible."
My monthly ezine today talks about the fact that pain that's not transformed is transmitted. Osho's quote reminds us of the heaviness of dragging around our pain and suffering. If we can simply be with our pain and woundings, letting them flow through us and out of us, we can move on. We can then be transformed rather than letting those wounds affect our words and behavior, thus transmitting them on to those around us.
When I say "simply" be with our pain, I don't mean to imply that this is simple. It is not. It does take intention. And hard work. And only we are responsible for that. We may try to lay blame on others for our pain and suffering. And it may be true that someone did something to us that caused great pain. However, we are responsible for hanging onto it rather than letting it flow through and then letting it go. We are responsible to find ways to heal that pain so it doesn't affect our relationships and behavior.
What pain do you need to let go in your life? Are you transmitting any of your suffering to others? Today is a good day to let pain be transformed, to be healed, to turn pain into peace.
My monthly ezine today talks about the fact that pain that's not transformed is transmitted. Osho's quote reminds us of the heaviness of dragging around our pain and suffering. If we can simply be with our pain and woundings, letting them flow through us and out of us, we can move on. We can then be transformed rather than letting those wounds affect our words and behavior, thus transmitting them on to those around us.
When I say "simply" be with our pain, I don't mean to imply that this is simple. It is not. It does take intention. And hard work. And only we are responsible for that. We may try to lay blame on others for our pain and suffering. And it may be true that someone did something to us that caused great pain. However, we are responsible for hanging onto it rather than letting it flow through and then letting it go. We are responsible to find ways to heal that pain so it doesn't affect our relationships and behavior.
What pain do you need to let go in your life? Are you transmitting any of your suffering to others? Today is a good day to let pain be transformed, to be healed, to turn pain into peace.
Friday, October 26, 2018
Develop our compassion muscles
In the past year or more, I read the entirety and have returned to reread portions of a wonderful book by widely respected religion scholar Karen Armstrong entitled Twelve Steps to a Compassionate Life. It's a good read, and I highly recommend it. It is especially timely given the divisions within our country and throughout the globe right now—and given the amount of human misery that exists.
Armstrong mentioned our "compassion fatigue" too, something it's easy to feel when we see so many images of misery daily on TV and online. She says, "We are probably deluged with more images of pain than any previous generation; they are beamed into our homes nightly on the evening news. It is easy to get compassion fatigue and tempting to dismiss these spectacles from our minds, telling ourselves that there is nothing we personally can do and that this misery has nothing to do with us."
However, instead of fatigue and dismissal, she urges, "Instead of steeling ourselves against the intrusion of other people's pain, we should regard our exposure to global suffering as a spiritual opportunity. Make a conscious effort to allow these television images to enter your consciousness and take up residence there. Extend your hospitality to them, and 'make place for the other' in your life. It is a powerful way of developing 'concern for everybody.'"
In that way, we can learn to develop compassion, a badly needed component of human life in these times.
Armstrong mentioned our "compassion fatigue" too, something it's easy to feel when we see so many images of misery daily on TV and online. She says, "We are probably deluged with more images of pain than any previous generation; they are beamed into our homes nightly on the evening news. It is easy to get compassion fatigue and tempting to dismiss these spectacles from our minds, telling ourselves that there is nothing we personally can do and that this misery has nothing to do with us."
However, instead of fatigue and dismissal, she urges, "Instead of steeling ourselves against the intrusion of other people's pain, we should regard our exposure to global suffering as a spiritual opportunity. Make a conscious effort to allow these television images to enter your consciousness and take up residence there. Extend your hospitality to them, and 'make place for the other' in your life. It is a powerful way of developing 'concern for everybody.'"
In that way, we can learn to develop compassion, a badly needed component of human life in these times.
Friday, September 21, 2018
Pity vs. care
It's no secret that I am a fan of poet Mark Nepo's writings. His bouts with cancer and other life situations have given him a depth of character that make his words really speak to me.
Last week I read this in his book Inside the Miracle: Enduring Suffering, Approaching Wholeness as he spoke about lessons learned from coming so close to death:
"It's taught me that if we share pain, which is a lot to ask, there is no room for pity. For sharing the struggle requires an investment, a real life-changing investment by those who care, an involvement that will instigate their own tandem suffering. Pity is a bleacher activity. It is the substitute for front-line caring."
Wow, there is a difference, isn't there? "Pity is a bleacher activity." Yes, just so. It is far different from true sharing of pain. Most people don't want pity when they suffer. They want someone to care—whatever shape that may take.
Who might need your care today?
Last week I read this in his book Inside the Miracle: Enduring Suffering, Approaching Wholeness as he spoke about lessons learned from coming so close to death:
"It's taught me that if we share pain, which is a lot to ask, there is no room for pity. For sharing the struggle requires an investment, a real life-changing investment by those who care, an involvement that will instigate their own tandem suffering. Pity is a bleacher activity. It is the substitute for front-line caring."
Wow, there is a difference, isn't there? "Pity is a bleacher activity." Yes, just so. It is far different from true sharing of pain. Most people don't want pity when they suffer. They want someone to care—whatever shape that may take.
Who might need your care today?
Friday, June 15, 2018
'Pain as propane'
On Wednesday, we talked about how we respond to difficulty, using a quote from Winston Churchill. After I wrote that blog, I read about a man who'd had a tough childhood and also as an adult, experienced several losses before finally getting his life together.
He didn't let his childhood or the losses stop him in his tracks, however. He didn't give up or get derailed. What he has done instead, he says, is to use "his pain as propane." That struck me as a great way to use adversity in our lives. That definitely doesn't mean we ignore the pain, difficulties and losses. No, we deal with them in appropriate ways—and then move on. We do not allow the painful situations of our lives to define us nor to be the last (or only) word.
Rather, we let the pain fuel and empower us. We let it spur us on to fulfilling our dreams and to becoming the people we want to be. That in turn often pushes us to empower others and help them transform pain, too.
Pain as propane—yes, pain and suffering can be transformative. In fact, I have heard many people say that it was through their cancer (or other serious illness) that they really came to learn many of their life lessons, create new dreams and appreciate life and loved ones.
He didn't let his childhood or the losses stop him in his tracks, however. He didn't give up or get derailed. What he has done instead, he says, is to use "his pain as propane." That struck me as a great way to use adversity in our lives. That definitely doesn't mean we ignore the pain, difficulties and losses. No, we deal with them in appropriate ways—and then move on. We do not allow the painful situations of our lives to define us nor to be the last (or only) word.
Rather, we let the pain fuel and empower us. We let it spur us on to fulfilling our dreams and to becoming the people we want to be. That in turn often pushes us to empower others and help them transform pain, too.
Pain as propane—yes, pain and suffering can be transformative. In fact, I have heard many people say that it was through their cancer (or other serious illness) that they really came to learn many of their life lessons, create new dreams and appreciate life and loved ones.
Monday, May 21, 2018
Both joy and sorrow are temporary
We know all too well that both joy and sorrow are part of life. What we don't always think about is the temporary nature of both those emotions and the experiences that spur them.
Author Joey Green puts it this way, "When you experience joy, remembering that 'This too shall pass' helps you savor the here and now. When you experience pain and sorrow, remembering that 'This too shall pass' reminds you that grief, like joy, is only temporary."
This quote puts a little different twist on things, doesn't it? We often think that times of sorrow will pass. But so will those times of joy—so best we savor them and make the most of them while we can.
All our emotions are temporary ... and will pass. Keep in mind the transitory nature of all things, and it will help you keep a healthy perspective on life.
Reading Green's quote certainly grabbed my attention and is a good reminder to me. How about you?
Author Joey Green puts it this way, "When you experience joy, remembering that 'This too shall pass' helps you savor the here and now. When you experience pain and sorrow, remembering that 'This too shall pass' reminds you that grief, like joy, is only temporary."
This quote puts a little different twist on things, doesn't it? We often think that times of sorrow will pass. But so will those times of joy—so best we savor them and make the most of them while we can.
All our emotions are temporary ... and will pass. Keep in mind the transitory nature of all things, and it will help you keep a healthy perspective on life.
Reading Green's quote certainly grabbed my attention and is a good reminder to me. How about you?
Monday, February 5, 2018
Grief and self
A couple days ago as I read through a booklet of retreat offerings, on a page offering a series of weekends on the topic of honoring grief and healing from it, I saw this quote by author and speaker Charles Eisenstein:
"Grief is a way of gathering our lost parts."
Somehow it really resonated with me. I haven't had a good deal of time since I read it to really reflect on it nor to think about why it so called to me. But I do want to spend some time with the quote. It seems to contain riches.
I suspect what Eisenstein means in that quote is grief work. It's the work that gathers our parts and makes us whole again. This I do know: Grief work is extremely important work. When it's not done, the pain and grief do not go away. They get buried inside us at a deep level. The longer they remain buried, the more difficult it is to access in a healthy way. In fact, it tends to get released by us in unhealthy ways—as anger, irritation, depression and sometimes, physical illness.
And, yes, it does mean we lose parts of our self—parts that are difficult to access until we take the time to do the grief work. Grief is a process and not to be rushed. And grief occurs with all manner of losses: friendships, identity, job, dreams, death, illness and so many more. Spending time in the grief process is good self-care.
I invite you to join me in exploring the quote above and see whether it might hold any insights for you.
"Grief is a way of gathering our lost parts."
Somehow it really resonated with me. I haven't had a good deal of time since I read it to really reflect on it nor to think about why it so called to me. But I do want to spend some time with the quote. It seems to contain riches.
I suspect what Eisenstein means in that quote is grief work. It's the work that gathers our parts and makes us whole again. This I do know: Grief work is extremely important work. When it's not done, the pain and grief do not go away. They get buried inside us at a deep level. The longer they remain buried, the more difficult it is to access in a healthy way. In fact, it tends to get released by us in unhealthy ways—as anger, irritation, depression and sometimes, physical illness.
And, yes, it does mean we lose parts of our self—parts that are difficult to access until we take the time to do the grief work. Grief is a process and not to be rushed. And grief occurs with all manner of losses: friendships, identity, job, dreams, death, illness and so many more. Spending time in the grief process is good self-care.
I invite you to join me in exploring the quote above and see whether it might hold any insights for you.
Monday, November 20, 2017
Pain and delight
I have family and friends who refuse to be on Facebook for any number of reasons. Goodness knows, that and other social media can be complete time-suckers. You think you're simply going to check whose birthday it is on a given day so you can send wishes and the next thing you know, you've wasted 30 minutes reading posts that range from newsworthy and interesting to totally inane—or worse, to cruel and insulting to someone or other. So I totally understand the reticence of some to join in.
One thing I confess that I do enjoy, however, is when Facebook puts in my morning feed a post or photo from a year or two or three ago. One day this week when I opened Facebook, several photos of my youngest son, youngest grandson and my sister popped up. These were photos taken when they spent time with me exactly a year ago, and what a smile they brought to my face as I recalled the wonderful times we had during that visit. The reason for their visit was a surprise birthday party for me, in itself a fun and wonderful memory. But the day we four spent in a park walking around, seeing the deer and bison there and watching then almost 5-year-old Ayden play on the playground was so relaxing and fun. And recalling the memory of that visit was a wonderful start to my day earlier this week.
So even with those things in life that can hold irritation and negatives, we can also often find joy and delight. It's always a reminder to me that so much of life is both/and rather than either/or. Facebook can be a real pain and can be a time-sucker. And it can also bring lots of smiles and joy.
One thing I confess that I do enjoy, however, is when Facebook puts in my morning feed a post or photo from a year or two or three ago. One day this week when I opened Facebook, several photos of my youngest son, youngest grandson and my sister popped up. These were photos taken when they spent time with me exactly a year ago, and what a smile they brought to my face as I recalled the wonderful times we had during that visit. The reason for their visit was a surprise birthday party for me, in itself a fun and wonderful memory. But the day we four spent in a park walking around, seeing the deer and bison there and watching then almost 5-year-old Ayden play on the playground was so relaxing and fun. And recalling the memory of that visit was a wonderful start to my day earlier this week.
So even with those things in life that can hold irritation and negatives, we can also often find joy and delight. It's always a reminder to me that so much of life is both/and rather than either/or. Facebook can be a real pain and can be a time-sucker. And it can also bring lots of smiles and joy.
Wednesday, July 5, 2017
Broken—and loving
I have had my heart broken more than once in my lifetime. I'm sure you have, too. Until a couple years ago, I'd never given a lot of thought to the difference between having my heart broken and having my heart broken open. But in 2015 when my youngest son and daughter-in-law experienced marital difficulties and eventually ended up divorcing, I was broken-hearted. For them. For their two young children. For myself and all who loved them.
In tears, I told my healing touch practitioner how I was feeling about the situation. She encouraged me to let my heart break open. I did some reading on that concept and lots of journaling and reflecting. I realized that when a heart is broken open, more love can enter in and more love can flow out. I tried to focus less on the hurt, sadness and pain—and more on simply loving. I focused on sharing all the love I could with my son, my daughter-in-law, each of my two beloved grandchildren. And with others, too. It did make a difference. I opened myself to see what new possibilities there might be for them—and for me, too.
Two weeks ago I visited my son and grandchildren. I shared the beautiful experience of his engagement to a loving and amazing woman, who loves his children as though they are her own. I had dinner with my former daughter-in-law and heard about the joys in her life as she now experiences a new, fulfilling love relationship, too. I never dreamed an outcome like this. Because each of them is happier now, they are better parents and work together for the children's well-being in a healthier way. I could foresee none of that in 2015 when my heart was breaking.
Not all life situations work out so beautifully. But this I know: If we let our hearts be broken open, we can keep on leading with our hearts and loving as passionately and outrageously as possible. That makes all the difference!
In tears, I told my healing touch practitioner how I was feeling about the situation. She encouraged me to let my heart break open. I did some reading on that concept and lots of journaling and reflecting. I realized that when a heart is broken open, more love can enter in and more love can flow out. I tried to focus less on the hurt, sadness and pain—and more on simply loving. I focused on sharing all the love I could with my son, my daughter-in-law, each of my two beloved grandchildren. And with others, too. It did make a difference. I opened myself to see what new possibilities there might be for them—and for me, too.
Two weeks ago I visited my son and grandchildren. I shared the beautiful experience of his engagement to a loving and amazing woman, who loves his children as though they are her own. I had dinner with my former daughter-in-law and heard about the joys in her life as she now experiences a new, fulfilling love relationship, too. I never dreamed an outcome like this. Because each of them is happier now, they are better parents and work together for the children's well-being in a healthier way. I could foresee none of that in 2015 when my heart was breaking.
Not all life situations work out so beautifully. But this I know: If we let our hearts be broken open, we can keep on leading with our hearts and loving as passionately and outrageously as possible. That makes all the difference!
Wednesday, June 7, 2017
Pain and joy connect
We get a lot of societal messages these days telling us we have a right to a happy and perfect life. Ads show happy, clappy people. And even when we're grieving a loss, many folks around us encourage us to get over it. Perhaps it makes them more comfortable to see us happy. In any case, there's a lot of pressure to "don't worry, be happy" these days.
But how realistic is that? Every one of us faces challenges, pain and loss. Facing them and working through them takes time. And it should take time, for there are ever so many lessons to be learned from each of those things. As singer/songwriter Leonard Cohen said in his song "Anthem," everything is cracked and that's how the light gets in.
We don't need to take the opposite approach and glorify pain and suffering. But we need to allow both pain and joy into our lives. I like what inspirational author Mark Nepo says about this in his book Seven Thousand Ways to Listen: Staying Close to What Is Sacred. He speaks of letting in beauty and listening to loss. He reminds us that pain and loss open us up. Further, he says: "This lifelong conversation with love, wonder, and truth in counterpoint with pain, loss, and obstacles is how we dilate and constrict our way into the essence of our aliveness."
I love that: a lifelong conversation between the two. Yes! Think of the width and breadth of such a conversation and how our hearts would expand.
But how realistic is that? Every one of us faces challenges, pain and loss. Facing them and working through them takes time. And it should take time, for there are ever so many lessons to be learned from each of those things. As singer/songwriter Leonard Cohen said in his song "Anthem," everything is cracked and that's how the light gets in.
We don't need to take the opposite approach and glorify pain and suffering. But we need to allow both pain and joy into our lives. I like what inspirational author Mark Nepo says about this in his book Seven Thousand Ways to Listen: Staying Close to What Is Sacred. He speaks of letting in beauty and listening to loss. He reminds us that pain and loss open us up. Further, he says: "This lifelong conversation with love, wonder, and truth in counterpoint with pain, loss, and obstacles is how we dilate and constrict our way into the essence of our aliveness."
I love that: a lifelong conversation between the two. Yes! Think of the width and breadth of such a conversation and how our hearts would expand.
Thursday, June 16, 2016
Feel the hurt, don't stuff it
The painful experiences of our lives, if examined and processed, can become the fodder for much of our growth and transformation. If we just stuff them down and tuck them away, however, we never get the opportunity to experience the lessons that likely are embedded within the experiences.
As Sherry Ruth Anderson and Patricia Hopkins say in their book The Feminine Face of God, "If we lock away the fearful, painful experiences of our lives—the death of a loved one, a betrayal, or a passion that is not approved by society—we cut them off from their natural cycling. They are not washed by our tears. They are not exposed to the warmth of our heart or the light of our consciousness. And so these old emotions and memories can not break down to become sources of new life."
That says it all. I really don't need to expand on that. Don't be afraid to feel the hurt and pain, examine it and work with it until it can be transformed into some type of new life for you.
As Sherry Ruth Anderson and Patricia Hopkins say in their book The Feminine Face of God, "If we lock away the fearful, painful experiences of our lives—the death of a loved one, a betrayal, or a passion that is not approved by society—we cut them off from their natural cycling. They are not washed by our tears. They are not exposed to the warmth of our heart or the light of our consciousness. And so these old emotions and memories can not break down to become sources of new life."
That says it all. I really don't need to expand on that. Don't be afraid to feel the hurt and pain, examine it and work with it until it can be transformed into some type of new life for you.
Tuesday, May 24, 2016
Make healing a priority
Highly respected author and educator Parker J. Palmer once said, "Violence is what happens when we don't know what else to do with our suffering."
That's profound. Yes, there is so much violence in our world. War. Murder. Rape. Trafficking. Spousal violence. Child abuse. Angry, hateful and vitriolic language spewed in political gatherings. Even talk shows where participants yell or talk over each other.
What's underneath it all? Suffering. Pain. Fears. Those things in and of themselves don't need to lead to violence. However, if untended, they definitely can. Healing is so essential.
When you and I suffer, whether that's physical, mental or emotional, it's important to take the time and find the resources that will help us deal with that pain. If left untended, when the next painful event occurs, that hurt will pile on top of all the old hurts that were never tended. Soon you have an enormous rock-pile of stored-up pain and hurt probably frosted over with more than a little anger. The stage is set for violence, whether in words or actions.
Is there something right now that could use healing in your life? I invite you to tend to it right away. It's a gift you give yourself—and the world.
That's profound. Yes, there is so much violence in our world. War. Murder. Rape. Trafficking. Spousal violence. Child abuse. Angry, hateful and vitriolic language spewed in political gatherings. Even talk shows where participants yell or talk over each other.
What's underneath it all? Suffering. Pain. Fears. Those things in and of themselves don't need to lead to violence. However, if untended, they definitely can. Healing is so essential.
When you and I suffer, whether that's physical, mental or emotional, it's important to take the time and find the resources that will help us deal with that pain. If left untended, when the next painful event occurs, that hurt will pile on top of all the old hurts that were never tended. Soon you have an enormous rock-pile of stored-up pain and hurt probably frosted over with more than a little anger. The stage is set for violence, whether in words or actions.
Is there something right now that could use healing in your life? I invite you to tend to it right away. It's a gift you give yourself—and the world.
Monday, March 7, 2016
Let the Light in
Rumi, 13th century Persian poet and Sufi mystic, once said, "The wound is the place where the Light enters you."
Think about that a bit. Each one of us carries scars from wounds that we've suffered through our years of life. How do you see your scars? As signs of strength? Signs that you've conquered the pain and learned lessons? Signs that you grew stronger and moved forward because of that pain? Or do you see your scars as ongoing pain that still drags you down? Do you still focus on the hurt and pain?
It's a choice. But I do encourage you to see your scars as a path to healing and strength. At each of those points, the Light is able to get in. As my healing touch practitioner told me once, "Don't just let your heart be broken. Let it be broken open." I see a heart broken open as one that's able to let healing in. It's also able to let in more love and let love out more easily, too. And I see each of my wounds and scars as signs of those things in my life that have made me stronger.
Our suffering has the possibility of making us stronger. We can be survivors—even thrivers. Think about it—how do you see your wounds?
Think about that a bit. Each one of us carries scars from wounds that we've suffered through our years of life. How do you see your scars? As signs of strength? Signs that you've conquered the pain and learned lessons? Signs that you grew stronger and moved forward because of that pain? Or do you see your scars as ongoing pain that still drags you down? Do you still focus on the hurt and pain?
It's a choice. But I do encourage you to see your scars as a path to healing and strength. At each of those points, the Light is able to get in. As my healing touch practitioner told me once, "Don't just let your heart be broken. Let it be broken open." I see a heart broken open as one that's able to let healing in. It's also able to let in more love and let love out more easily, too. And I see each of my wounds and scars as signs of those things in my life that have made me stronger.
Our suffering has the possibility of making us stronger. We can be survivors—even thrivers. Think about it—how do you see your wounds?
Friday, December 4, 2015
Focus on hope
One of my favorite authors and workshop presenters, Paula D'Arcy, recently wrote about a visit she'd made to a local county jail where she was invited to give an inspirational talk. Before her talk, an inmate asked whether he could share his story.
The man's story was extremely moving, D'Arcy said, and he ended with a song that in her words "cut a path through the mind's usual chatter." All the inmates were on the edge of their seats, clapping and shouting encouragement to the man who shared his story. By the time D'Arcy gave her talk, everyone in the room was open and ready for a dose of hope.
The line that drew the longest applause that morning, D'Arcy said, was this: "Your pain and failures do not define you. What defines you is the spirit moving in life."
Such a message surely brought hope to those inmates. But it also can bring hope to you and to me. Our lives, too, have contained pain. Perhaps they still do. We've likely had our share of failures, too. So it's good to remember that those things do not define us.
To hear that message and remember the truth of it, however, we often need to shut out all the noise of the world around us—noises that play on our fears, on our greed, on our desire to buy more and more, and on our negative side. Tune that out. Remember you're defined by something much larger. And let hope fill your heart today.
The man's story was extremely moving, D'Arcy said, and he ended with a song that in her words "cut a path through the mind's usual chatter." All the inmates were on the edge of their seats, clapping and shouting encouragement to the man who shared his story. By the time D'Arcy gave her talk, everyone in the room was open and ready for a dose of hope.
The line that drew the longest applause that morning, D'Arcy said, was this: "Your pain and failures do not define you. What defines you is the spirit moving in life."
Such a message surely brought hope to those inmates. But it also can bring hope to you and to me. Our lives, too, have contained pain. Perhaps they still do. We've likely had our share of failures, too. So it's good to remember that those things do not define us.
To hear that message and remember the truth of it, however, we often need to shut out all the noise of the world around us—noises that play on our fears, on our greed, on our desire to buy more and more, and on our negative side. Tune that out. Remember you're defined by something much larger. And let hope fill your heart today.
Monday, November 30, 2015
Experience the full range of feelings
Nobody likes to feel pain and sadness. It goes without saying that we much prefer to experience joy and happiness.
Here's the deal, though: If you and I try to numb out the pain so we don't feel the sadness, we will also numb out the joyful parts of our lives—or at the very least, tamp them down. When we are intent on pushing down one emotion, it affects all the other emotions. It's really impossible to simply select to experience this or that emotion while shutting out others. We can try push down the sadness, but it's still there—and will either leak out in strange ways little by little or erupt in a big way some day. Emotions don't come with a control panel that allows you to select one over another.
Far better that we try to be real about all our emotions, experiencing them to the full extent. Of course, it isn't fun to feel sad. However, if we are willing to face the sadness and walk through the grief and pain, we most likely will learn some things. Perhaps we'll learn things about ourselves; for example, we might realize that we're stronger than we thought. Or we might learn who our real friends are—and be totally surprised at how wonderful it can be to be cared for by dear friends when we're going through a tough time. And, eventually, when we walk through the grief and sadness, we will come out on the other side. There will be a day again when the sky is blue and you can hear the birds sing again.
Here's the deal, though: If you and I try to numb out the pain so we don't feel the sadness, we will also numb out the joyful parts of our lives—or at the very least, tamp them down. When we are intent on pushing down one emotion, it affects all the other emotions. It's really impossible to simply select to experience this or that emotion while shutting out others. We can try push down the sadness, but it's still there—and will either leak out in strange ways little by little or erupt in a big way some day. Emotions don't come with a control panel that allows you to select one over another.
Far better that we try to be real about all our emotions, experiencing them to the full extent. Of course, it isn't fun to feel sad. However, if we are willing to face the sadness and walk through the grief and pain, we most likely will learn some things. Perhaps we'll learn things about ourselves; for example, we might realize that we're stronger than we thought. Or we might learn who our real friends are—and be totally surprised at how wonderful it can be to be cared for by dear friends when we're going through a tough time. And, eventually, when we walk through the grief and sadness, we will come out on the other side. There will be a day again when the sky is blue and you can hear the birds sing again.
Friday, November 20, 2015
Fertilizer & flowers
My former husband and I used to grow hybrid tea roses. They were simply beautiful. One of the secrets to lovely roses, we discovered, was fertilizing with aged cow manure. It seemed to make the plant hardy, and the flowers were large and long-lasting once cut.
I have often thought about how like those roses our lives are. We can take the challenging, painful and difficult parts of our lives—what we call the crap, the manure—and let that become the fertilizer that helps us grow in ways we might not have imagined.
Does that mean that when bad things happen to us, we immediately give thanks for it and start looking for ways it can be used in our lives? Probably not. We have to be real about what's happening and find ways to deal with it. And it's OK to do our share of grumbling, crying and being depressed about it. At some point, however, once we've actually gotten through it, it will be easier to see what lessons the whole experience might contain for us. How have we grown through that difficult experience? What transformation have we experienced?
Look for the fertilizer. Know that it can help you grow and bloom. Know that without fertilizer, we wouldn't have the lovely flowers we so enjoy.
I have often thought about how like those roses our lives are. We can take the challenging, painful and difficult parts of our lives—what we call the crap, the manure—and let that become the fertilizer that helps us grow in ways we might not have imagined.
Does that mean that when bad things happen to us, we immediately give thanks for it and start looking for ways it can be used in our lives? Probably not. We have to be real about what's happening and find ways to deal with it. And it's OK to do our share of grumbling, crying and being depressed about it. At some point, however, once we've actually gotten through it, it will be easier to see what lessons the whole experience might contain for us. How have we grown through that difficult experience? What transformation have we experienced?
Look for the fertilizer. Know that it can help you grow and bloom. Know that without fertilizer, we wouldn't have the lovely flowers we so enjoy.
Tuesday, September 15, 2015
Shutting out pain
I remember when I was in high school, one of my friends was deeply hurt when her boyfriend dropped her like a hot potato. She swore she would never again let another person into her life in that way. No more love for her.
Although I lost touch with her through the years, I remember hearing that she did eventually marry. I hope it was a loving and fulfilling relationship. It had always made me sad to think she might close herself off from any future relationship because of one hurtful and negative experience. That didn't seem like the way to live, at least not from my perspective.
Then again, don't we all try to do something similar at times? We hope that we can fence up our lives against pain and hurt. However, there are no guarantees, are there? And when we try to shut out the hurt and pain, we also shut out much of the pleasure and delight. I've never heard of a way to let only pleasure into our life and barricade out the pain. And anyway, how would we know pleasure if we'd never known any hurt or pain? For don't we know what a valley is because of the mountains that surround it? Don't we know delight in its contrast to unhappiness or hurt?
What are you trying to shut out of your life right now? Might you find a way to open yourself up to all of life, knowing that much growth and transformation actually comes through the hurt, pain and disappointments?
Although I lost touch with her through the years, I remember hearing that she did eventually marry. I hope it was a loving and fulfilling relationship. It had always made me sad to think she might close herself off from any future relationship because of one hurtful and negative experience. That didn't seem like the way to live, at least not from my perspective.
Then again, don't we all try to do something similar at times? We hope that we can fence up our lives against pain and hurt. However, there are no guarantees, are there? And when we try to shut out the hurt and pain, we also shut out much of the pleasure and delight. I've never heard of a way to let only pleasure into our life and barricade out the pain. And anyway, how would we know pleasure if we'd never known any hurt or pain? For don't we know what a valley is because of the mountains that surround it? Don't we know delight in its contrast to unhappiness or hurt?
What are you trying to shut out of your life right now? Might you find a way to open yourself up to all of life, knowing that much growth and transformation actually comes through the hurt, pain and disappointments?
Monday, May 4, 2015
Caring—but not carrying others' pain
I'm still thinking about all those people in Nepal who were killed and/or injured by the massive earthquake more than a week ago. I find that kind of thing simply heartbreaking. I don't know about you, but I sometimes find it difficult to know just how to carry this kind of "global pain."
Sometimes we hear such stories and count our blessings that we live in the country we do. Well we should count our blessings—for we do have many. But we cannot just dismiss that kind of pain and suffering either.
Years ago I had a counselor tell me to "carry others in your heart but don't carry their pain." That's always been difficult to know how to slice and dice. How do I carry others in my heart without carrying their pain? I know she is correct, that I should not try to carry their pain. I can't do so anyway. But I also don't want to be the type of human being who hears these tragic stories and then simply goes on with the privileged life that so many of us in the U.S. have compared to the rest of the world. Does that make sense to you?
How do you do this? How do you care about our sisters and brothers here and around the globe but not carry their pain around in your heart? How can we show compassion without getting weighed down and being rendered helpless?
Sometimes we hear such stories and count our blessings that we live in the country we do. Well we should count our blessings—for we do have many. But we cannot just dismiss that kind of pain and suffering either.
Years ago I had a counselor tell me to "carry others in your heart but don't carry their pain." That's always been difficult to know how to slice and dice. How do I carry others in my heart without carrying their pain? I know she is correct, that I should not try to carry their pain. I can't do so anyway. But I also don't want to be the type of human being who hears these tragic stories and then simply goes on with the privileged life that so many of us in the U.S. have compared to the rest of the world. Does that make sense to you?
How do you do this? How do you care about our sisters and brothers here and around the globe but not carry their pain around in your heart? How can we show compassion without getting weighed down and being rendered helpless?
Wednesday, April 8, 2015
Give voice to pain
Yesterday we talked about healing our wounds and hurts so that we don't end up hurting others because of them. Acknowledging that we have the wounds is a good starting place. Naming what is can be so powerful.
In The Book of Awakening: Having the Life You Want by Being Present to the Life You Have, Mark Nepo says: "We often underestimate the power of giving voice, but it is real and sustaining. It is the basis of all song. It is why prisoners break into song. It is why the blues are sung, even when no one is listening. It is at the heart of all hymns and mantras.
"And it works its healing, not so much by being heard as by the fact that in giving voice to what lives within, even through the softest whisper, we allow the world of spirit to soften our pain."
Yes. Give voice to your hurts, your pain, your wounds. Sing the blues! Comfort yourself. Then let the pain go. When it involves something huge like abuse or death, it's highly likely that pain will cycle around again. But each time you do some healing, you reduce the amount that resides in you. And the healing becomes easier each time.
In The Book of Awakening: Having the Life You Want by Being Present to the Life You Have, Mark Nepo says: "We often underestimate the power of giving voice, but it is real and sustaining. It is the basis of all song. It is why prisoners break into song. It is why the blues are sung, even when no one is listening. It is at the heart of all hymns and mantras.
"And it works its healing, not so much by being heard as by the fact that in giving voice to what lives within, even through the softest whisper, we allow the world of spirit to soften our pain."
Yes. Give voice to your hurts, your pain, your wounds. Sing the blues! Comfort yourself. Then let the pain go. When it involves something huge like abuse or death, it's highly likely that pain will cycle around again. But each time you do some healing, you reduce the amount that resides in you. And the healing becomes easier each time.
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