New Moon Landing

Picture the describes a little of how I feel right now. Image by Avital Pinnick via Flickr

Another new moon, another puddle.  It’s always like this on the flip-side.  Sometimes the world feels like a pot of boiling water, you can’t boil one spot without that heat spilling over onto another.  In this world there always seems to be a cycle at work.  Ever hear the phrase, “Don’t return kindness, pass it on”?  Cruelty is the same way.  In this world you either shed the pain onto the next or you sacrifice yourself by throwing yourself on your own sword.  I apologize to my readers for sounding especially morbidly cynical today, but it is just how I feel this part of my month.  Tortured and cynical, perhaps a little lonely.  Monday I’ll probably feel great.  It’s how this goes.  Full moon to new moon, and back again.  Always like the seas swaying my heart, practically making me seasick.  I think about this because I think about all the pain I have experienced in my life, and think about how it has subsided.  I wondered… Where does it go.

Sometimes it is shed on the shoulders of a loved one, sometimes is lulled by passionate sex with a partner that blurs your emotions like a drug.  Sometimes, though, it’s shed in anger.  When your shouting at the sky, “WHY!”, out of breath, “What did I do to deserve this”.  We don’t always have courtesy in releasing our pain in ways that are good for others.  Each one of us, at some point in our lives, will take out our frustration on someone who doesn’t deserve it.  Each one of us human beings being incomplete creatures, will inevitably experience a void in our lives that causes us pain.  When we are in pain, that anguish overflows.  In each one of us emotional grenades, some riding on hairpin triggers, and others buried much deeper.  None of us intend for collateral damage, but it is almost inevitable.  We are largely unaware of many of them, some of them we are, and all of them feed the cycle.

Author: Bagande

Image via Wikipedia

In this life, I guess that we all carry scars, we all have certain wounds.  Often times our pain over flows, and it’s almost never the person who planted that pain their that receives the shrapnel.  It’s like a mine field, because it’s virtually impossible to trip only one grenade.  It is far more likely that one grenade will cause a cascade reaction setting off others, doing far more damage than one alone could.  How many times in your life did someone you love trip on your pains, senses of unrequited longing, deep scars and as a result feel your wrath, though they were not responsible for the pain you reacted to?  I am sure we are all guilty of it, and seldom do we think about it outside of occasional grief or embarrassment about overreacting though many of us still remain unaware of why we go off.  It’s not a luxury I experience much.

I of all people know that my heart is no less full of landmines than the next person.  Anyone who says they don’t have them, or not that many is either: A. Lying, B. Completely oblivious, or C. Really lucky making them the exception and not the rule.  There is more than enough pain to go around in this world, so it’s doubtful anyone could have shirked its burdens scot-free.  So if everyone occasionally hurts someone in this fashion, why isn’t the world total and utter chaos?  Some of it can be accounted for in the scapegoats, or those who take on others pain without passing it on.  But the human heart isn’t a damage sponge, so I’d argue that most people aren’t sacrificial, so that isn’t where most of it goes.  There are people who are numb, but there is still so much pain left over that it does account of it either.

So I thought for a while, wondering what abyssal existence all this pain goes into.  Not even all the suffering that exists can account for it.  Something must be having an effect on all that pain.  Believe me a fool if you want for thinking this, but I think it’s love.  I think it’s understanding that pain exists, and a sort of acceptance that allows the rest of it to wash away.  Because we love each other, and long for each others companionship we endure the pain, especially for those we love.  We understand there is pain, and though we don’t always understand the “grenade cascade trigger”, being there for each other some how makes it bearable.  So it’s not just love, but acceptance, and companionship that helps us make it through that pain, even when doled out by those we love the most.  I do hate to say it, but some days it really does feel we need the contrast to understand what true love is.

True love endures the pain, and loves again.  Acceptance lets us brush ourselves off and try again because we are mentally and emotionally ready for pain.  While I wish I lived in a world that didn’t need that our hearts be so guarded, I’d be foolish to not be aware of its influence.  I guess I can be a bit idealistic, but I just kind of fit that shoe.  I am not too rigid to temper my idealism with realism.  I don’t like the pain, and I don’t like the collateral damage those I love most experience in “tripping” the pins, but I feel quite helpless against this seemingly irrevocable factor of the human condition.  But, at the same time, if it weren’t for the pain, I don’t know that I’d value the joy I feel from love and companionship.  I don’t want to sound like I am saying that suffering is necessary to find happiness, but it’s hard to deny that it is how it seems to be sometimes.

Motherly Love - Edited

An image that captures the essence of companionship. Image by Part-time Lion via Flickr

Pain though, is inevitable so it doesn’t count, but love… Well, love is a choice we make… Love counts.  I’d seek companionship even without pain, because it’s absence is pain in and of itself.  So in the wake of life which is full of pain, the pain we experience from relationships is little more than static whispering in our ears.  The more pain we experience the more tolerant we become of it, but what does this mean of us as human beings?  Should we suffer if only to be more tolerant?  Probably not.  Either way, pain is inevitable, therefore pain and moreover the little pain is trivial but natural to who we are.  If only all pain was little.  Pain doesn’t define us, suffering doesn’t make us, though it is integral to our existence.  Love… Love means so much more, because you choose to love, even knowing there will be pain.  Love is giving your heart in spite of knowing it will hurt, because in the end pain doesn’t matter.  We  all want love, static and all.  So I guess I choose to see love as our defining nature not pain.