For most of my life I’ve run from pain. There have been moments that I embraced suffering, but that embrace was fleeting. Even in the times that I dove into the anguish, I would begin searching for the edge of the pool the moment my head broke the surface. This week I came to realize something startling.
The past few years I’ve been learning to just be. I’ve been growing in my understanding of pain. Recently, when I’ve encountered pain I’ve often jumped in and just floated for a while. I’ve found several amazing things. First, the pool is refreshing…in a strange way. There is something freeing about just sitting in my pain and quietly repeating, “It’s okay to hurt. It’s okay to feel.” Maybe it’s the feeling that is truly refreshing. I’m tired of all the anesthesia coursing through my emotional veins. I have spent so much time trying to figure out how to get out of the water that I’ve missed the significance of swimming.
The second thing I’ve learned from soaking in suffering is that I’m not the only one here. This is a big pool. Whether willingly or unwillingly, there are so many who are here with me. Today as I’ve slowly stretch my limbs, just existing in this place, I feel the gentle nudge of so many others. That touch is exhilarating. The contact thrills my soul as I realize that I am not alone.
Then, among all the others, I brush against a massive being. At first there is fear. This person is big enough to be standing on the bottom of a pool so deep I can not even imagine its depth. With his feet firmly planted and his arms outstretched he hangs bleeding in the very center of the pool. As we touch, I feel the warmth of love. It is like the fleeting touches I felt from others here, only a thousand times stronger. Strange. So much love wrapped in so much suffering. It’s hard to comprehend. It isn’t until I swim around his side to see his face and hands that I realize who he is.
Then I’m left with a question, “You’re the only one of us who can escape. So why are you still here?”