“Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that this too, was a gift.” ~ Mary Oliver
I am sad today.
Nothing horrible has happened to me. I am blessed in an embarassment of ways. Even the hours I spent today, laughing, enjoying the smile on my son’s face, the beautiful country I live in, the taste of good food nourishing my body—they were treasured and appreciated.
And yet my heart aches.
That harsh, cold feeling where it actually feels like my body has been painfully wounded. My chest hurts. My throat is tight.
I sit alone on my couch wrapped in a blanket. Cozy and safe. Damien Rice croons softly into my headphones. There is nothing physically wrong with me.
I am healthy. But I’m hurting.
Today, the world feels like too much. So much sadness, so much pain. Too much to possibly name—the multitude of wrongs we humans do to each other and the living creatures on this earth.
The wars. The poverty. Racism. Violence. Homelessness. Hatred.
We hear it over and over again—we have to let it go. Allow yourself to feel, embrace the pain—and yet how often do we actually do that? I know I usually brush off the darkness. I do my best, I think, to live well, to be of benefit—and surely that’s enough.
Tonight I’m sitting with it. The waves of sadness rock me. I am inviting it in. I am allowing this pain to wash over me. I breathe it in. I feel it in my entire body. I soak in the pain, and let it pass by. I think we all have these times—the long nights and dark moments.
Whether we brush them off or allow them to suck us in, the dark moments are part of the human existence.
This much I know: I will emerge tomorrow, stronger for it. I will rise with the sun and stretch and begin again. I will be thankful for the sadness, and I will move forward.
Breathing in, I am grateful. Breathing out, I am grateful. Pain and all.
“Even though I know there’s hope in every morning’s song I have to find that melody alone. ” ~ The Avett Brothers, Morning Song
Love elephant and want to go steady?
Author: Keeley Milne
Editor: Renée Picard
Image: Porsche Brosseau/Flickr