Because a wise man named Morrie once advised, delve deep into an emotion and then detach. I am experiencing an emotion I have always denied myself the privilege to truly acknowledge- pain, excruciating pain.
The pain of learning that it is not easy to continue to believe in the endlessness of time.
The pain of acknowledging that the world is not as nice as I dream it to be, that love is not as naive, that joy is not as unabashed, rather shy.
The pain of experiencing complex relationships, the pain of accepting change, impermanence of goodness.
The pain of being human. The pain of an endless endeavor to retain sanity and calm in a madness that engulfs all. The pain of giving with a hint of exchange, the pain of forgetting selflessness.
The pain of feeling homeless despite a house, the pain of feeling loss despite abundance. The pain of feeling hate in a world that yearns for love, the pain of choosing to be alone over togetherness with noise. The pain of no more meeting those who are long gone, the pain of not finding those who still do exist.
The pain in letting go, as the sand slips through nimble fingers.
The pain of experiencing desire but not expressing. The pain of learning that you are perhaps desired no more.At times I wonder, would my father read again the poem he would enthrall me with as a child? The pain of not being the same being, the pain of asking, is an adult not a child?
At times I do wonder, if pain is deliberate, a reason to nurture hope for love? For peace? For a better self, a better community, a better life?
As I slide down this slippery path, I do believe that I would reach a lake, where there would be a paper boat, and on it, I would sail again.
It is perhaps just fair to acknowledge and experience pain, it does not last forever. So said the clouds which flew above the window, and traveled thus far. So said the waves of the river, roaring with the winds. So said the setting sun, the watch that stopped, the cat staring from behind the glass. It is just fine. So says this little heart of mine.