A lot of my aha moments have been clustered together over the past few years. They were all brought on by different types of suffering. These instigators were all things people not only actively avoid, but live in real fear of. What is not widely acknowledged though, especially in our culture of comfort, is that discomfort can breed real wisdom. It’s when we’re truly challenged and thrown way out of our norms that we have the chance to open our eyes. The real trick is to lean into the suffering, allowing yourself to really feel and understand it, rather than dragging it around behind you in an attempt to run away.
The death of my brother taught me many lessons—about death, love, grief, strength, myself, family, friends, our culture, the ties that bind everyone who has experienced true loss, and the beauty in having a real angel by your side. We’re all destined to lose those we love the most. We live in terror of those moments, unavoidable as they are. This fear stems mainly from the false belief that we’re losing them forever. But love bonds eternally. We cannot lose that which is an indelible part of us.
Escaping over three decades of abuse gave me many profound insights about the value of self-love, boundaries, and the misunderstood importance in a loving “no”. Despite what I learned, what I endured was something I’d not wish upon my worst enemy.
My other great teacher has been living in relative isolation—being largely misunderstood or neglected by those closest to me for my whole life. As an INFJ, I’ve always felt like an old soul or a lone wolf. The absence of nurturing in my childhood only perpetuated this feeling. As I’ve aged, I’ve made starkly different choices than those around me—getting married younger than anyone else I know, having kids when I did, being the only person I know to choose to study art, identifying as pansexual long before I discovered there was even a word for it. All of this and more set me on a wildly different path, without anyone ahead of me to show me the way, to give encouragement or advice. My greatest wish has always been to simply have someone to commiserate with. Instead, my insights have always needed to come from within. This has served me well.
My aha moments have taught me invaluable lessons, but have you noticed the pattern in them? Suffering is not something anyone wants to run toward. It’s avoided at all cost. So what is there to do when you’re on the other side of suffering? When you’ve endured it, learned from it, and come out wiser, but bruised?
Do you ask your loved ones to suffer as well, so as to share in your lessons? Wishing them the same pain?
Do you try to use something as small and hollow as words to try and explain your journey? People don’t want to hear about death. They don’t want to hear about child abuse. They don’t want to know what happens when you have no one. The fear of these demons pushes away those you counted on to be there. Human instinct tempts us to put our fingers in our ears and block out painful realities. And even if they do stay, words just don’t cut it. Some things in life just cannot be understood until they are experienced firsthand.
It takes my breath away to know things that I wish I could reveal to others. It’s a tragedy of existence to be shown a truth which expands your heart, mind, and soul, only to be forced to keep it to yourself. Maybe this is something else that is kept secret until you’re standing in its place, but you simply cannot save people from their allotment of suffering. Your words will never be enough to spare them the pain. They need to walk through it themselves. They need to walk their particular path. No one can do it for them.
We are all tasked with saving ourselves. No one else can save you from your troubles. They were given to you for a reason. That reason is so you learn and grow.
But as someone who has faced nightmarish challenges while thinking I’d never get through them, as someone who has experienced profound grief and understood the miracle of it, as someone who looks back on how far I’ve come and been astounded—I can tell you there is so much triumph and peace awaiting you when you get on the other side of it all. Everything—everything—is worth it. Whatever you have to force yourself to face, there will be rewards when you’re done. Fear will be conquered. Your heart will sing. You will be so very grateful.
But no one can tell you how to get there, or what it will really be like as you’re down in the trenches. You’ve got to see it for yourself.
That’s the whole point. We’re each on solo missions, side-by-side. Your mission is unique, because you are unique. Support is there if you need to reach for it, but every one of the steps you must take can only be made by you.
So, hang in there friends. Do what your mind tells you to be afraid to do, and listen to your heart instead. Because the strength of the heart is always greater than the illusory fear of the mind. Have faith.
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