The Paradox of Pain

“You’re not a bad person.  You’re a very good person, who bad things have happened to.  Besides, the world isn’t split into good people and death eaters.  We’ve all got both light and dark inside us.  What matters is the part we choose to act on.  That’s who we really are.”  ~ Sirius Black to Harry Potter

The title for this could have also been The Pain of Paradox.  I teetered back and forth trying to decide which side to focus on, and, in typical paradoxical fashion, I realized…both.  I remember saying last year that I wanted to stand in the middle of a teeter totter and be perfectly balanced.  To which a wise man responded, “You’re going to have to have a strong core.”  Of course, I was speaking metaphorically.  It’s safe to say I’m extreme about being balanced.  I know that sounds rather oxymoronic.

Like every other human on the planet, I wasn’t prepared for 2020. My fitness plan for the new year was in motion after dealing with a debilitating back injury for several months.  I had made a list of goals, and I was going to make it all happen.  Exciting things did start happening!  Getting a puppy in January, moving into my new place in February, and dancing the night away with friends at a masquerade ball on Leap Day.  And then…March marched in and said, “I’m here to rain on your parade with madness like you’ve never seen.”  The real March Madness was canceled.  And what we thought would be a few difficult weeks of quarantine turned into nine months and counting of craziness that is still hard to process as we’re flipping to the last month on the proverbial calendar on the wall.  We traded our fancy ball masks for a variety of medical masks and face coverings.  I can’t get over the irony.

We’ve all lost so much this year.  People who were taken too soon from this life, family members who passed away and left holes in our hearts, jobs, stability, routines, friends, relationships, normalcy, parties, concerts, movies, opportunities, and holiday gatherings.  The list marches on.  Everyone keeps saying how it’s been the worst year ever, and I definitely agree.  For me, it was preceded by many years of personal trials and difficult times.  A lot of darkness. I’m sure a lot of people feel the same way.  I was ready for 2020.  I thought this year was going to be the turnaround, and then it all just felt like a joke.  And yet.

These next thoughts are not lighthearted diction, but rather a release after years of my idealism wrestling with the pain we all experience.  A quiet whisper asks, “Are you aware of the power of pain and the effect of shadows?”  In the midst of pain, I’ve seen that the most valuable lessons in life can’t be learned when you’re walking a clear path.  The darkness of the wilderness can be truly terrifying and oftentimes cruel.  We can run away or try to hide from it, but we can’t actually know who we are without dealing with what’s lurking in the shadows.  The darkness calls to our souls, and without answering that call, we can’t really live in the light. 

Experience is the best teacher, they say.  To understand pain, you can’t just think about other people in pain, you have to experience it yourself.  Pain is a powerful force and will light a fire in you.  That fire can lead to a multitude of complex dichotomies.  Numbness and a flood of memories.  Desperation and growth.  Hiding behind a mask and craving authenticity.  Bitterness and perspective.  Rage and empathy.  Hopelessness and mental fortitude.  Anxiety and calm.  Darkness and light. Blatant realism and ridiculous idealism.  Guilt and grace.  Feelings of being fragmented and experiences of connection like never before.  Two conflicting emotions felt at the same time.  The fact that this is even possible is mind-boggling to me, but I know it’s true because I’ve experienced all of these feelings parallel to each other.  Standing in the middle, not sure if I should laugh or cry.  Dance in the rain or scream at the sky.  Cling tight or let go.  It’s both…and it’s normal to experience both.  And it balances out as awareness increases.  This phenomenon is relieving and mentally exhausting at the same time.  Feeling things so deeply is both a blessing and a curse – another paradox in and of itself.    

Balance.  Oh, what a lofty ambition.  Some days are harder than others.  Some days I think I’m handling life well, and nothing can steal my joy and passion for life.  Other days I have to just accept that it’s hard and not beat myself up for having a bad day or week.  I don’t have to have it all together every moment of every day.  Sometimes I feel dead inside.  And yet.  At the same time, I’ve never felt this alive and aware before.  That is the paradox of pain.  It can both destroy you and awaken something new in you at the same time.

Pain is the path to awareness and empathy.  We want these things in our lives, but we don’t want to experience the pain or failure to reach those ideals.  But going through the hard times is what brings about the greater understanding of life.  The knowledge we end up gaining from our pain could have saved us from that pain we experienced…except that’s how we gained that knowledge in the first place.  The lesson comes after the test.  I didn’t know how strong my core would have to be to balance on this teeter totter called life.  I didn’t know how strong I could become on my own, until there was no other option.  Pain showed me who I really am, and it’s still shaping me.  Some of the most creative and moving songs and works of art are birthed in times of struggle. Pain resonates with people, and despite the heartache that is present, it can be an opportunity for some of the deepest connections.

We can hope that things will be better when the year ends, but we’d be crazy to think that our lives are going to be magically better, as if this year was just cursed.  These hard times are going to spill over into the new year.  Life wasn’t actually normal or free of pain before the virus, and it’s never going to be that way.  There are always going to be difficult and complex things we go through, and we will suffer and grieve many losses.  Sometimes grief swallows me up, and other times I let myself go numb to pain, but I’m working on finding the right balance in dealing with all of it. 

So here’s to the paradox of pain.  You can’t run or hide from pain…it will find you.  Some things may break beyond repair, and that may break you for awhile. Maybe a very long while.  While you’re sitting with darkness, I pray for peace over you, and I hope the fire inside will refine you into the most authentic version of you.  “And all at once, you will find, this is what it takes to be alive.  Where can you run?”  ~ Dayseeker 

I’m saying all of this on a day when I’m okay, so I can read it on a day when I’m not okay, in hopes that I’ll feel okay again soon.  And I hope if you’re feeling discouraged or hopeless, these words can be an encouragement to you too. 

December 1, 2020