I don't like pain. I've spent much of my life trying to avoid pain, reduce pain, mitigate pain.
Many hours have been wasted on efforts to distract, ignore, escape, and numb.
But lately I'm accepting that it can't be avoided. Pain will always be with me—us—in one form or another. Loss, grief, wounds from family, betrayal by friends, sickness, misunderstanding, the whole world one great glorious minefield for pain.
And pain is also often an indicator, a teacher, a directional arrow. (Not always. Sometimes it is a terrible guide.) But I ignore its lessons at my peril!
So. How then do I live so as not to be crushed?
Perhaps: us.
We're going to hurt, so let us hurt in community. Not to swim in the muck of self-pity, wallowing as perpetual victims unable to escape the morass of circumstance, but as co-sufferers whose companionship gives hope. We lament together and hurt together and its really awful but then I dry your tears and you dry mine and there's strength in your eyes and in my words and we dust off and link arms and stumble forward.