"When another person makes you suffer, it is because he suffers deeply within himself, and his suffering is spilling over. He does not need punishment; he needs help. That's the message he is sending." — Thich Nhat Hanh
Suffering.
As I sit here this morning in silent contemplation, I wonder why it's always pain that motivates me to start writing again. I live a happy life--so many moments filled with love and compassion, moments that make my heart sing, but it's the soul-crushing pain that draws me to put pen to paper and share my thoughts.
I think sometimes this kind of pain leaves us vulnerable, undefended, and open to true communion with others. It's this thought that makes me wonder if suffering is actually a gift, an opportunity to open up to those who try so hard to love us. When I'm suffering, that undefended vulnerability tempts me to hide in my cave, avoid contact with humanity, and punish myself for feeling so hollow. I also punish those around me, not intentionally, of course. But self-enforced seclusion pushes others away.
Until recently, I never understood how awful it feels to have someone you love push you away. And I can't help but wonder if, they, like me, know no other way to experience their suffering. And so the struggle I'm having is this: how do you love someone, help someone, who works so hard to push it away?
In this situation, what is the expression of love? Is it to respect their choice to be alone, even if it hurts you to do it? Is it simply a matter of telling them they aren't alone, and being there for them when they decide to live in the world again? How do you love someone who doesn't want it? And how do you deal with the pain that comes with your rejected love?
Perhaps I'm struggling with this because this time, instead of withdrawing, I chose to reach out to friends. And although I admit to feeling a bit guilty for burdening them with my sadness, there is tremendous healing in feeling loved. And I can't help but wonder how much I've hurt people in the past when I've pushed them away.
I remember a conversation I once had with a stranger. He asked me why I made it so difficult for people to get to know me. His question stunned me, because it never occurred to me that I do that. I think the lesson in my suffering today is to be undefended when life is good, not just when I'm too beaten down to keep the walls up. That being stoic isn't the courageous way through pain, being undefended is. That being open to the love others have to offer me is the greatest gift I can give to them.
So to those who have held my hand these past few week, thank you.
Suffering.
As I sit here this morning in silent contemplation, I wonder why it's always pain that motivates me to start writing again. I live a happy life--so many moments filled with love and compassion, moments that make my heart sing, but it's the soul-crushing pain that draws me to put pen to paper and share my thoughts.
I think sometimes this kind of pain leaves us vulnerable, undefended, and open to true communion with others. It's this thought that makes me wonder if suffering is actually a gift, an opportunity to open up to those who try so hard to love us. When I'm suffering, that undefended vulnerability tempts me to hide in my cave, avoid contact with humanity, and punish myself for feeling so hollow. I also punish those around me, not intentionally, of course. But self-enforced seclusion pushes others away.
Until recently, I never understood how awful it feels to have someone you love push you away. And I can't help but wonder if, they, like me, know no other way to experience their suffering. And so the struggle I'm having is this: how do you love someone, help someone, who works so hard to push it away?
In this situation, what is the expression of love? Is it to respect their choice to be alone, even if it hurts you to do it? Is it simply a matter of telling them they aren't alone, and being there for them when they decide to live in the world again? How do you love someone who doesn't want it? And how do you deal with the pain that comes with your rejected love?
Perhaps I'm struggling with this because this time, instead of withdrawing, I chose to reach out to friends. And although I admit to feeling a bit guilty for burdening them with my sadness, there is tremendous healing in feeling loved. And I can't help but wonder how much I've hurt people in the past when I've pushed them away.
I remember a conversation I once had with a stranger. He asked me why I made it so difficult for people to get to know me. His question stunned me, because it never occurred to me that I do that. I think the lesson in my suffering today is to be undefended when life is good, not just when I'm too beaten down to keep the walls up. That being stoic isn't the courageous way through pain, being undefended is. That being open to the love others have to offer me is the greatest gift I can give to them.
So to those who have held my hand these past few week, thank you.
