Pain and voices

I really don’t seem to be posting much of late – whether it’s here or one of the many other sites I frequent.

I haven’t disappeared. I have just become a silent lurking searching for their lost voice.

Perhaps you have seen it?

If you have, would you mind sending it home? It’s rather lonely here searching for expression to the confusion inside when your voice has failed.

I remember having a voice.

Sometimes it whinged like no other about my health or life in general. Other days, my voice railed against the injustices that I encountered, each one breaking my heart until it had to come out lest I went crazy. On occasion my voice sang with the beauty of the day, unable to be silent in the face of so much goodness. Those were good days.

These days, I think, it has become lost in the chaos and I have yet to hear its whisper amid the winds.

Pain has a way of silencing the best of us and sometimes that silence isn’t chosen, regardless of those who claim that we should just move on with life. In fact, these people do a disservice because they disqualify the place and purpose of pain. Pain can teach us, so long as we don’t demand it follow our lesson plan. That is not pain’s purpose.  I could write pages on the many views on pain but today that is not my purpose.

Someone once said  that “Pain is not something that needs to be justified, In order to heal, pain must simply be understood.” For some, pain’s purpose is complete when it is understood and incorporated into their story. Rather than a raw wound, the pain becomes part of the character, its lessons shaping the life it has now been incorporated into. For others, understanding the pain gives voice to action. Rather than an acceptance, pain becomes a vehicle to change.


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