I Eat My Pain And It Feeds My Soul

Mixed Media Collage - Sage Canellis - 04.01.2024 - I Eat My Pain And It Feeds My Soul

In times of grief and sorrow, what are you held by?

Where do you go when you fall apart?

Today, I heard prayers deep in my bones. I heard them as clear as if they were told to my ears. I know the prayers were always there, available to me, at any time, but comfortably numbed in my daily rhythm, in the very common, in the easy and the necessity of everyday modernity, I could not hear them clearly … not yet. All the work I have done, all the lessons I have learned, all the teachings I have followed, have probably led to this moment. The journey was bumpy at times, excruciating at other times. But I never could imagine how devastating it would be.

Just before christmas, a terrible event shook us apart and left us shaking. My mother-heart cracked open and exploded into million pieces. I have been beaten up like an octopus, you know the ones the Greek fishermen catch and bang on the rocks 1000 times to make their body softer before they cook it. At each beating I feel there is someone whispering to me: “Do you get it now? No? Not yet? Do you need more?!”. Soon the beating starts again.

Language is tricky at times. When a tragedy happens people often say «I have no words». Sometimes, the pain we are carrying is so deep that words fail to capture its intensity. It's like a shadow, always there, but it cannot be seen. It's more than just a feeling - it's a deep presence that colors every part of your life - dark, dull, and lifeless. Nothing matters anymore, no intelligible sound can be uttered, there is no escape, only void. I have been plunged into despair, body and soul. I have become a messy territory with only desperation.

A young soul departed. He was the boyfriend of my daughter. Her first boyfriend, her first love. He died in her arms; they went to sleep and only Alfie woke up in the morning. She woke up in terror with a dead body next to her.

As she was screaming that morning on the phone, we entered a long tunnel of loud, piercing moments of anguish, convulsion, cries for the love story that had barely started and that will never end, cries for what could have been avoided, cries that our child is alive. There is no way to comprehend, there is no way to engage in anything that can make things softer. There is only agony. There is only affliction. Big holes in our hearts.

Days became unbearable, Nights even more. We all became crazy.

As I am writing these words and sharing them here (it took some sleepless nights and a lot of courage to dare to align some lines), I am mourning the feeling of normalcy. I do not know how to exist anymore. I was not prepared for that. Was I meant for that much sorrow? Why do I think that the universe has turned its back on me, why do I feel I am punished ?

What about my daughter? How is she going to be able to do all the beautiful things a young girl dreams to do? Will she be able to grow new wings?

What about the parents of Tobias who lost their little boy?

THE WOUND IN ONE PERSON CAN BECOME THE DOOR THROUGH WHICH EVERYONE CAN FIND THE CENTER OF LIFE AGAIN. - Michael Meade

Though I know that such deep moments of sorrow will eventually come with the possibility of transformation, though I know time will help and maybe this moment will shed new light into the rest of our lives, right now, I cannot find any meaning, any sense… Collapse is near.

Sustained failure happens as the consequence of small, daily acts of neglect that stack up over time to lead to a blowup, a breakdown. But is this what happened? Was this the result of a failure? This is where a rational mind stops. Thinking like that does not help. All thoughts and theories and hypotheses are empty and weak. Irrelevant. Hopefully, tears and sorrow take over and prevent some of the noise.

I am very good at going through critical and harsh questions. I am very good at blaming myself and going through negative emotions. I hear voices all around. They whisper nasty words. If I listen carefully, I go down with guilt and shame and then the blaming voices get louder. Some days are so hard, all I achieve is to count down the hours to make it to the next one. The days are long and the nights are empty. I have no choice but to be patient while my cells re-calibrate themselves and the new normal settles down. I know it can take a long time. I need to be reminded to be kind to myself. As humans we like to believe we have control, but when it comes to grief, control gets taken off the table. When we fight it, we prolong the pain. I need to surrender to it, and sit in it..... this is where we will all begin to heal.

I just need to take each day as it comes and to know that it won't always feel like this.

Every little aspect of my life has changed. It was like someone grabbed my life, threw it up in the air, and I watched it slowly fall back to earth like small pieces of dust. And as I watched it fall, I also watched fragments of my life land in fields I cannot reach anymore. Friendships. Family. Trust. Hope. All is scattered and disjointed.

We lost so much that morning.

For some months just before, I already walked around like a zombie … I am now wondering how I am going to piece my life back together. Terrified and alone. And oh so silent. I barely speak. I avoid calls. I avoid people.

I am here now and I sit in my silence.

Often my inner critic takes over. I need to recollect myself, see things in a new light. I need to find back my center. And stay there. Only think and feel and act through the eyes of love. I see my ancestors sitting there, watching. They are sitting heavily on my heart. They were supposed to show me how to move huge and heavy doors. But they are not uttering a word. They are not moving.

In their silence, in their solemnity, I guess one last important question: what ancient pain was stored in my body that this moment is inviting me to meet and release more fully?