How much hurt are you willing to carry?
We are born of hurt and into hurt. The hurt of ancestors, of our culture, our species… Hurt is thicker than blood; in it, we are all family. Hurt flows out of father into son, out of the mother into her daughter. Hurt is the dark stuff of which light is born, the weight under which wings grow, and it is the midwife of the soul. Hurt is our one great teacher, and the other is love. How much hurt are you willing to carry?
Hurt thrives in darkness, and so it is always hiding: in our bones, in our words, in our anger, and in our escapes. To run away from hurt is to run circles around it; to seek escape is to find only darkness. Light is not found apart from the dark. The dark is the only womb where light can be born. Light is the gift hurt bestows upon us when we bend down to carry shadow, when the heart opens, when the mind awakens. To love is to be baptised in hurt, and only in love is there life. So, how much hurt are you willing to carry?
To carry hurt is to carry a child, helpless and alone. To carry hurt is to shrink, to become nothing special, to eat dirt, to surrender. It is defeat, humiliation; it is crucifixion. To carry hurt is to take up the lowest position, where God abides. It is to join God in the work. It is to take on your shoulders what little life they can carry. How much hurt are you willing to carry?
You don’t need to seek hurt, as your feet wade in it on every path, within and without. The world would have long drowned in hurt if not for the miracle of the heart. The heart, God’s faithful servant, who gathers hurt as a nectar and works it into love. Perhaps this is the measure of a life… How much will you work into love? How much hurt are you willing to carry?
Ignorance has many forms, but it is always some form of escape. The escape routes are many, all paved with good intentions. Escape is society, escape is industry, and the economy; escape is politics, war, religion, and desire. Escape is the mirage we follow further into the desert. Escape is sold as cure for hurt, but it is the very activity of hurt unrecognized. The world would have long been lost to escape if not for the miracle of the mind. The mind, God’s only faithful image, which awakens darkness into light. Perhaps this is the measure of a life… How much will you awaken into light? How much hurt are you willing to carry?
Hurt is without an owner. It is a subterranean river, flowing out from body into body as we run in our frantic escapes. Or hurt is a fire spreading, where one wound opens many more without itself being diminished. Hurt is our one common tongue, and the other is love. Hurt shows us the other is not other. Hurt breaks our hearts, but it breaks them open. Hurt startles the mind, but it startles it awake. Hurt recognized, hurt that we carry, it ploughs and moistens, and warms up the soul. Hurt carried is the soil of the soul, and the seed, and the rain and sunshine, and the fruit is love. Hurt is the first noble truth, and the last is love. Love makes hurt noble, and hurt makes love true. Perhaps this is the measure of life... How much truth will you live? How much love? How much hurt are you willing to carry?
Thank you, Simion, I was in a deep funk. This straightened me right out. Filled me with welcome
equanimity.