The beauty of sitting in pain

Sometimes there lies an inexplicable pain deep inside my chest. Like today, truth be told. It usually begins subtly and if I ignore it, it grows into a real sadness and depression that can lead to frustration and anger.  I used to keep myself busy in an effort to avoid thinking about it, but it’s like a background hum that does not still or quiet itself.  It’s heavy, thick, and, well, painful.  At times like these in the past, I might have numbed myself in any number of destructive ways. But these days I’m learning to sit with it.  To sit IN it.  To allow myself to feel it. To allow the pain to go searing through my veins, to envelope me, to feel the heaviness in my heart. I sit quietly, feel it, face it squarely. When I do that, and when I ask, “what are you here to teach me?” the pain begins to feel separate from me and becomes something I can observe, something I can listen to like a child, or like this is my teacher and I listen as if I am it’s best student.

I am grateful for this … this new-found ability to sit in my own pain.  The teaching that comes out of the listening allows me to learn my intended lessons much more rapidly. I avoid the repeating patterns of my younger, unconscious, and self-destructive days. And so, out of the pain arises a consciousness and from that consciousness arises gratitude. The pain has morphed. The light of consciousness and willingness to feel, ask, and listen has transmuted the pain into a realization and an action. I know what I must do – I know why this pain came to me and it is calling me to do something … stop playing it small because of fear; start choosing more enabling and positive language; have integrity, not just with others, but with myself – especially with myself.  That last one was one of today’s messages.  I am not caring for myself in the most loving and nurturing of ways physically.  Spiritually, yes. Physically, no.  I am grateful to understand this. To learn this. Now it is time for action.