"The cure for anything is salt water: sweat, tears or the sea."—Isak Dinesen
Every day I wake up wondering, “Is this the day the pain will be over?”
As I move out of bed into a new day and bring my awareness to my body, I feel the ache in my left foot and the pain in my hip growing once again.
My shoulders drop, discouraged. No, it hasn’t gone yet. My unwanted constant companion—pain—is still here.
Some days we live side-by-side with more grace than others. Today isn’t one of those days. Today the days, weeks, months of cumulative pain with little respite has stripped me bare.
I am on the floor and I am weeping.
The hard ground supports my tired and broken body.
I do not have to hold myself together.
The weeping softens this heavy stoic mask revealing the true self—the one who hurts.
I am super human not super hero.
The weeping soothes and softens my body reducing its barriers of tight determination and rigid protection into malleable clay.
Now I am capable of being re-shaped into something new.
The weeping carries me with the rip current, out beyond the breaking waves I thought were threatening to drown me.
Instead I am buoyed by the immeasurable molecules of an omnipotent ocean.
The weeping is an agent of surrender—an agent of healing.
Salt water is fluid, capable of changing shape. And to heal, I must be fluid too.
This is not a story of self-pity but of surrender.
Our pain and suffering is mostly kept silent, private and hidden as if it is unacceptable to see.
Do not shun the part of you who hurts.
Our greatest beauty and our strength lies in our vulnerability and speaking our truth.
For anyone who is hurting, I write this for you. It's okay to lie down and cry.
With love and courage,
PS If you know someone who is hurting and needs to hear these words, please share it with them.