I didn’t know life would be this bitter, this sweet.
Life lifts my face toward the soft morning sunlight, this achingly sweet birdsong, this smell of earth, this hand in mine. It fills me with gratitude.
Life takes me by throat, the viscious, anxiety-ridden darkness.
I didn’t know this life would present me with pain that cannot rest easy inside me. The pain cannot become part of me in the way a bad experience eventually integrates itself, become scar tissue, becomes part of me. Becomes me. Familiar, knowable, something survived, a lesson learned, a growing toward compassion and understanding. A forgiveness.
No, there is no where to put this kind of pain. There is no place for it. Still, it floats around beside me, haunting me with it’s incomprehensible, stabbing confusion, as if waiting for me to figure out how it can make any sense. It cannot make any sense.
I suppose eventually we accept the experiences of our lives that are not part of us, and yet cannot be apart from us. We learn to keep going, to keep the sunlight, the softness, the love in mind. We learn to carve out more peace, more joy, more hope in order to keep the darkness from winning. I hope.