“The Journey. The Journey is what brings us happiness. Not the destination.” ~ Peaceful Warrior
When I hurt, I try to understand others’ pains and struggles.
I use my pain for humility.
I use the pain to knock me off my pedestal and out of the driver’s seat.
I use the pain for clearer vision and rebalancing—to question my bearings, my ego, my strength and determination.
I am so blessed, as hard as the journey is, to be able to empathize with a variant of types and degrees of pain.
To learn from pain.
To make pain my teacher.
To connect with other people through pain.
I know this. I understand this.
I accept more pain will come.
Pain is not my enemy.
No one and nothing is my enemy.
Every person has good inside of them, even if the good is masked or painted over in the cloakings of black.
I bring Pain into the light.
When Pain is no longer hidden in shame, buried, or ignored, Pain stands equal with Joy.
Prophet by Kahlil Gibran: On Joy and Sorrow
On Joy and Sorrow Kahlil Gibran
Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.
And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears.
And how else can it be?
The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.
Is not the cup that holds your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter’s oven?
And is not the lute that soothes your spirit, the very wood that was hollowed with knives?
When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy.
When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.
Some of you say, “Joy is greater thar sorrow,” and others say, “Nay, sorrow is the greater.”
But I say unto you, they are inseparable.
Together they come, and when one sits, alone with you at your board, remember that the other is asleep upon your bed.
Verily you are suspended like scales between your sorrow and your joy.
Only when you are empty are you at standstill and balanced.
When the treasure-keeper lifts you to weigh his gold and his silver, needs must your joy or your sorrow rise or fall.
In my years of living, I have seen the most pain and the most strength in the rooms of support groups.
This piece is dedicated to anyone who has ever frequented the basements and halls of recreation rooms and churches, in search of companionship, understanding, and support.
I have found that the most accepting, loving, and open-minded people understand pain.
This is a true and fictional story. The essence is truth, but the facts and details are not. Because of anonymity and out of respect to others, I would not attempt to write a prose of someone’s actual experience, except mine. The feelings are true. The pain is true.
Some people claim recovery is like an onion; in the way you peel one layer of experience and emotion away to find another. To me, recovery was more liken to being trapped inside the core of the onion itself and trying to forge my way through so I could breathe.
The Goodbye Girl
Laura Marling: Night After Night
You Light Up My Life
Below is a gift I received through the action of two kind souls.
Soma is courageous, creative, supportive, uplifting, encouraging, and a joy to know. Her blog is a wonderland of beauty. I suggest that you pop over to say hello to her and visit her marvelous poetry and writings. She is one of the many bloggers I am blessed to have in my circle of support and friendship. Her blog also radiates with positive energy. Soma’s blog
Miro’s words for Soma are perfect: “Her writings always contains a blend of wisdom, strength and playfulness necessary to keep one’s wits about them in this often times unwise, weak and far too serious world. A beautiful heart and a warrior’s spirit, she’s 1-in-100 and we are lucky to have her.”
“Out of every one hundred men, ten shouldn’t even be there, eighty are just targets, nine are the real fighters, and we are lucky to have them, for they make the battle. Ah, but the one, one is a warrior, and he will bring the others back.” ~Heraclitus