Speak to us of Pain.

Sometimes when I’m feeling a little lost or out of sorts I will flip open “The Prophet” by Kahlil Gibran to a random page and wait for the wisdom to direct me. Sometimes it’s eerily apt, other times not so much. But today was good, as I was feeling sad and couldn’t quite pinpoint the cause.

“And a woman spoke saying, Tell us of Pain,
And he said:
Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding.
Even as the stone of the fruit must break, that its heart may stand in the sun, so must you know pain.
And could you keep your heart in wonder at the daily miracles of your life, your pain would not seem less wondrous than your joy;
And you would accept the seasons of your heart, even as you have always accepted the seasons that pass over your field.
And you would watch with serenity through the winters of your grief.

Much of your pain is self-chosen.
It is the bitter potion by which the physician within you heals your sick self.
Therefore trust the physician, and drink his remedy in silence and tranquility.”

It was apt. Especially after a very long psychoanalytical conversation with a friend that happened later in the day. Thank the Unseen for great writers and good friends.