Category Archives: pain

Devastation Transformat​io​n

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And then a friend sent me a link
to spiritual teacher Matt Kahn’s
video entitled The Pain of Loss,
and it rocked my world.
I thought of how I had been
trying to escape my pain,
seeing it as evidence of failure,
and here was someone saying
that our bigges mistake is
our attempt to bypass the pain
so that we can continue on our path.
Instead, if we can see that our pain IS the path,
if we can see that
our devastation leads to transformation,
we’ll join with the Divine as co-creators,
and live into our fullest destiny
as embodied masters.
What the what?
So it is in my enduring
that I come to know my greatest strength?
I can allow the Universe to
turn me upside down and shake me out
and I can emerge on the other side
more loving, compassionate and clearer
than ever before?
I’m going to go and digest this now.
Thanks for listening.

PS I would love to hear all about your stories of transformation following great loss and deep pain.  Have you learned how to see pain as a great teacher?  Have you learned to embrace painful experiences as opportunities for profound growth?  How long did your initiation take? How long did you stay in the crucible, allowing life to burn away what you no longer needed for the journey ahead? I welcome anything you’re willing to share. Knowing that I’m not alone in my profound suffering has helped me realize that I’m part of this big human family, and I’d like to think that somehow in the sharing of our stories we’re collectively helping the human race to grow and evolve.

I Need to Be Patient

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I need to be patient with this process.
I was in the victim story
for a lot longer than the story
of my empowerment.
I believed he shouldn’t have left me
for a lot longer than I realized he should.
My pain is older than the loss of this marriage,
my abandonment, my grief, my heartache
much older than that moment
one year and one month ago
when he dropped the bomb
on the life I thought I knew.
And he is gone.
He has been gone for a while,
and he won’t be coming back.
And so now it is my task
to turn toward myself
and sit with the aching little girl
who clamors for my attention.
She cries out in anger and despair
because I haven’t been there for her,
so taken was I
with the telling of my sad, sad story.
I need to be patient with this process.
Taking ownership of one’s pain
is something that many people
will never realize they can do
let alone go ahead and do
once they realize they can.
I am making this choice.
I feel alone in it.
But that’s just because
no one I know personally
has made such a choice before.
Surely, though,
there are beloveds out there,
kindreds, who just like me
want to evolve until the day they die,
sweethearts who want to own their pain
so that they have the space,
the depth
and the presence
to own their joy.

When Will It Stop?

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It got me again today,
creeping up slowly
and then suddenly taking hold…
the depression was back,
and there was nothing
I could do about it.
Everything made me cry—
seeing families together,
imagining myself alone
in the midst of all these people.
I even cried at Chili’s
when I took the kids there
for a birthday lunch for my daughter.
After all this time
and all of these practices, I’m still wondering
When will this pain stop?

This Is True

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On the eve of my 41st birthday
and I’m feeling depressed.
My life has fallen apart,
husband with another woman…
they’re out tonight
at a Passover Seder,
at the home of a couple
who used to be my friends;
now they’ve accepted her as his,
and I am home with our children,
picking up the pieces of our wrecked life,
trying to maintain stability for them…
and I feel angry.
I feel hurt.
I feel betrayed, abandoned, discarded.
I want to be heard.
I want to be held.
I want to be seen.
I want a wise old grandma
to pull me into her lap,
to rock me, and hush me,
and tell me I am safe,
and all is well.
But there is no grandma here…
only me and my kids.
I search for meaning
as my fingers dance across keys,
sending words out
into a world of people
I most likely will never meet.
Who hears this?
Who cares?
Who knows this pain?
Who can tell me
that things will get better?
Who can convince me
that this is true?

Who Am I?

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Still hurting.
When will it stop?
Angry. Hurt. Lonely.
Tired. Overwhelmed. Triggered.
He’s finally moving out,
wanting to sort through
our years of life together,
our stuff.
I’m on edge.
I’m a caged animal,
hot, blinded with rage,
teeth bared, screaming,
throwing myself against
the bars of the cage,
hurting from the impact.
My thoughts are the cage.
My pain is the animal.
But who am I?

Down

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Down.
Of course I always was
at this time of year,
because of the absence of light,
because of the cold,
because of the way
the sun sets when I’m not ready.
But this year,
the Christmas decorations
are bringing me down too.
The Christmas carols
are making me cry
instead of sing.
I feel sad looking at my children.
I feel sad about everything.
I never knew something
that always brought such joy
could bring the sting of sadness
over and over and over again.
But I guess that this is how it goes
when home doesn’t feel like home,
when your husband isn’t a husband,
when your life isn’t what
you thought it would be.
Still, there’s something about the holidays
that makes this worse.
Is it the outward cheer
that throws my inner desolation
into such sharp relief?
Every time I see a Christmas tree
I want to weep.
Sometimes I do.
Please God, let me make it through.

Back Home to Joy

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Don’t hide your pain,
especially from yourself.
Pain hidden from yourself
gets blamed on others.
Be brave, warrior,
and look deep inside.
The pain is just another facet
of the deep and abiding joy
that is who you really are.
To experience this deep joy,
you must navigate through
your own pain.
Sit still, breathe,
pay attention to your body—
it has much to tell you.
Breathe a little more,
let it reach deeper into you.
Tune into all of it,
feel all of it,
the grief, the anger, the sadness,
the resentment, the disappointment—
whatever it is, it is showing you the way
back home to your joy.