Sorrow

“Many of us spend our whole lives running from feeling with the mistaken belief that you can not bear the pain. But you have already borne the pain. What you have not done is feel you are beyond that pain.” Kahlil Gabrin

I'm terrible at recalling dates. I can't even be counted on to get my wedding anniversary right on the first try so it comes to me as no surprise that I can't remember exactly when I stopped fighting against sorrow. All I know is that it was a conscious effort to call sorrow 'friend' and see where it took me.

What I've found is that sorrow, however painful, has given me so much in the way of life. Sorrow has made me more gentle. Sorrow has opened my eyes to the suffering of those around me. It taught me to listen first and judge last, if ever. I learned to look at, less and less, the actions of a person, and more and more what those actions say about what's going on in the deep places we can't see.

Sorrow made me capable of joining others in their own suffering without tiring of the mess we find there.  I can sit with anyone in the trash heap, never mind the smell, and tell them all the ways they are still beautiful. I can hold their hand, or their head, or their entire body, for as long as they need and give them all the comfort I've got to offer. I can love them when they are covered in grime and convinced they aren't worthy of much.

Sorrow has even led me to real, healing joy.  I'm convinced that they work hand in hand, actually. The moments when sorrow ebbs there is joy ready to burst forth, ever more vibrant for having had to wait its turn.  As sorrow is the weight of my soul that makes me stop and take notice of the world, joy is the healing salve that lightens the bruises sorrow leaves, putting into perspective the deep and dark shades of pain.

I love more because I know sorrow. I forgive more because I know sorrow. I am more because I know sorrow.