I am face down on the kitchen floor, afraid to move. I'm not sure how bad my mouth is bleeding. I want to rescind my thoughtless scurry from my bed down the dark hall to turn off the beeping hot pot in the kitchen. I loathe landing face first on the extra hard bamboo after sailing over the open dishwasher door I left open. I am alone, fearing the worst. And so I cry, sob from somewhere deep within, a bizarre feeling of connection with everyone who has ever been hurt, alone and afraid.
"Everything is connected" takes on a new meaning if we assume that our toughest emotional times are connected to emotions experienced by others. Is it possible that the what we feel when we are losing a parent to Alzheimer's is overwhelming partly because it’s the same emotions felt by everyone else dealing with a declining parent? In all of history? Is the sadness with losing time with the kids as they build lives of their own a universal sadness shared with every other parent? Can we wrap our head around the profound sadness of losing a loved one as something we share across the generations?
I know for me, one of the most painful times is when we land with only ourselves to blame for the predicament. Knowing we had the power to change the outcome and didn’t is extremely disappointing. We resist joining every dope in history that made a similar mistake, and wish we could take it back.
When we try to make change and it feels awful, is it because some of the pain is pain others have felt when they followed the same path? Is it possible that when we pursue our dreams we join an epic community of anxious passion, and share all their anxiety? When we shoulder the sorrows of our predecessors, making the weight oppressive, do we quit or persist?
Can we recognize the pain for what it is, rather than react and quit in overwhelm? Can we pause long enough on the floor to realize we are in good company, and have a chance to pick ourselves up and continue?
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