Suffering Is Grace
I woke up feeling very alone today. A loneliness that felt like I was alone in the Universe.
This is not an unfamiliar feeling. It comes back from time to time, although it has been present for a bit longer than comfortable these days.
I don’t know how many people feel alien to the world around them — as if you don’t come from this planet.
This can feel very isolating. And the truth is, I don’t know how much of that hole we can fill with other people.
The words “suffering is grace” echoed this morning as I held myself in my pain.
There is a certain softness that begins to arise when you hold space for your suffering. It does not take away your pain but it gives it a voice.
Too often, I’ve been afraid of my pain, trying to justify why it shouldn’t be here.
Yet, in reality, I’ve also grown so much thanks to my pain. If I hadn’t felt despair at 20, and this same feeling of separation I feel today, I wouldn’t have started my inner journey.
What I wish to contemplate deeper is the grace that lies hidden in our suffering.
As much as feeling this void in my heart feels painful, it is also healing to do so.
In a way, it feels like bringing love to a part of me that has felt unworthy of being alive for a long time.
One of the most painful experiences of my life was the bullying I received from my school teacher when I was 6 years old.
I had a tendency to daydream in class, and wasn’t as interested in what she was teaching.
The gift in return was that she humiliated me in front of my class. Repeatedly. She made fun of my daydreaming and what made me stand out.
This got so bad that my parents had to eventually change me school.
This school teacher is far away now, yet, the trauma still remains. What will happen if I allow myself to be different? Will I again be humiliated?
In a story like this one, it is hard to see the grace. Why do we need to suffer?
As I feel the grief of my uncle and how lonely I feel at times, it dawns on me that the purpose of pain is to help us heal. Not the opposite.
It’s almost as if pain is a secret door to remembering who we are. It’s a threshold we need to pass to know that no amount of fear can kill us.
When the pain arises again and I can’t do anything to push it away, I try to remember the grace that lies within it. The healing that occurs when we stop fighting our shadows.
This morning, when the suffering climaxed, I simply cradled it. Both physically in my arms, and emotionally within my heart. Instead of pushing away the loneliness, I cared for it like the most precious part of my being.
A friend of mine who had lost his wife in tragic circumstances, once told me that in retrospect, everything happened exactly as it should.
He wasn’t being nihilistic about his experience. He simply trusted that there was a bigger picture at play and that it was unfolding as it needed to.
My friend had gone through a depth of grief hard to imagine. Yet, today he seemed to be one of the most loving and tender-hearted persons I knew.
Your suffering can open a door for grace in your life.
As I write these words, I still feel the pain in my heart. Yet, this pain knows it is not alone because I’m here with it.
The remedy to the wound of separation, is caring for the wound. That is my hunch. Trusting in the vastness that holds me, and that everything has a divine timing.
When suffering arises within you and in the world, how do you respond? Do you wish for it to end as fast as possible?
What if instead, you gave it all the space it needs? Like a wounded child returning home after decades lost at war.
Suffering does not go away because we feel it. Yet, it softens and becomes a part of our life, instead of something we push away at arm’s length.
Most of all, I believe suffering is what makes us human. It is the vulnerability that unites us beyond all genders, cultures, and status.
In the depth of our suffering, we get to know each other intimately.
I often fear that my suffering will never end. But maybe, the key is in learning to love our wounds and the pain that breaks our heart?
Every time I have felt heart-breaking pain and allowed myself to feel all of it, I have grown. My life matured. It came with tears of despair and rolling on the ground in pain, yet, it made me more connected to who I am.
Suffering breaks us open. That is my hunch. This is where the grace pours in.
So instead of running away from it as far as possible, why not give it its rightful place, at the center of our hearts?
Two resources gave ease to my heart this morning:
One is a meditation I love to come back to. It has held me through some dark times:
The other, is a live album from Lee Harris, whose words touched me very deeply today:
For anyone going through a rough patch, The Art of Contemplation is a beautiful book on facing our shadows with gentleness. It is a philosophy I often come back to when strong emotions and challenges arise.
We never know when grace will pour in, which is why it is so difficult to feel our pain. We can only surrender and trust that we are held — that there is a purpose to our suffering.
Yet, this is also beautiful in a way. We are held by a mystery that far exceeds what our mind can do.
What do the words “suffering is grace” evoke for you?
