Sometimes life grants us the ability to empathize in impossible ways by paving a road with pain. When my bridge to the divine was broken it came with gifts that took me decades to receive.
One of the gifts was humility, which I mentioned earlier, but it also granted me the ability to empathize in impossible situations, and creatively navigate life.
Everything has a cost especially our greatest gifts. What price did I pay?
When our bridge to the divine is broken it causes catastrophic damage to how we navigate our day. It’s slices away the cosmic significance of our suffering and steals our ability to productively cope.
Following my brother’s car accident my existence spiraled into a hopeless nightmare of wayward loneliness. Witnessing his horrific visage and continued torment burned a new dark part into my soul. It was a wound that could not be mended, or resolved, and so it became a terrible, unhealable scar. Every time my eyes saw his horror it ravaged my heart. My pain was so great it made me want to escape, and overtime it hardened my skin until the pleasure of happiness was replaced with sadness.
I did not know this then, but we all need a place to rest, relax, and replenish. Our spirit must have a space to soften our soul. She needs pillows, sweet smells, and terrific touches to massage her husband back to full strength. Our spirit needs her husband to be strong, powerful, and unstoppable. She needs him because they are a team, and our existence is only as strong as our weakest link. She knows that if he is weak and asleep he will not be able to protect her or feed her what she needs.
In this time of my life I had very few soft spots to rest my little heart, and as a child this was tearing me apart.
For the next few years I was left to my own devices. My parents were focused on helping him relearn how to live.
I learned to hide my hurt as best as I could. My family was in a constant state of emergency, and I didn’t want to trouble them with my aching heart.
I spent a lot of time by myself listening to music and writing in my room. My parents were always so tired, or busy, and so there wasn’t much left for me. I do not hold this against them, they were doing their best, and ultimately they too needed a soft place to lay their head and rest.
Life requires a lot of empathy, and humility to navigate it effectively. We must be creative in our approach, so we can interconnect our experiences to gain the most wisdom we can from them.
My cancer story and my brother’s terrible accident has powerful interconnected elements.
When my cancer journey began it started with a bang. For the first two weeks after my pneumonectomy I lived in unbelievable pain.
Sometimes I reflect on the horrors my loved ones faced as they watched me writhe, scream, and plead in agony. It saddens me to know how heart breaking that must have been for them. For some of my friends my surgery, and jaunt through chemotherapy has irreparably damaged our bond. Though this saddens my spirit, my soul understands.
The sights and sounds they have experienced are haunting. They can never be forgotten. These terrors can ride with us for the rest of our life, and sometimes when we see our loved one’s face it takes us back to these terrible times.
If we truly love someone, we have a deep need to help, protect, and feed them. We want to see them whole and live their greatest life. I cannot fault someone I love for trying to avoid me, if being in my presence forces them to endure strife.
These kinds of situations are often hard for many of us to articulate or understand. Hardship and hurt has far reaching injuries that are often obfuscated from our eyes. Thankfully the horrors of my past helped me understand and accept the haunting reality of my loved ones when they became distant and detached. I cannot fault them, or hold it against them, because there is no greater hurt than being harmed by the presence of someone we love.
The parallels between these two stories is that my brother’s accident crippled my soul for life. It burned a dark part into my heart that I cannot heal. Though I have since rebuilt my bridge to the divine, being in his presence still hurts my spirit and mind.
This insight grants me empathy for those who love me but feel the same.
Call me selfish and weak if you need to. I know how unfair this may sound, but in life we must find ways to plant our feet on the ground.
I try to give to him and hold his hand when I can, but it’s hard to fly too close to the sun when my wings are made of wax.
Ultimately this is the price I have paid for humility, the ability to empathize in impossible situations, and creatively navigate life.
