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Melancholy Mourning


I did not realize the emotional pain I would feel over this breakup. Rationally I know that I had to do it, for my sanity, for my survival. But the irrational part of me is so powerful, it overwhelms my feeble rightness. I love and want this man, and yet my mind knows that I could not bear it. I loved and wanted another man, and he could not bear it.

Now I grieve. I feel I am grieving not just for this ending but for all endings. I grieve for my parents' hard lives, and my sister's retreat from reality. I grieve for the pain of all who have peopled my life. I grieve for my patients, living and deceased. I grieve for the disasters of our time, for the unconsciousness and cruelty. I grieve for my body and mind. My deepest being burns just as brightly though the pain engulfs all else. I have never felt this way before. My deepest well is uncorked. I can't help but to think that if I emerge from the other side of this whole, I will be more whole than I have ever been in all my life.

I went to the BiMart to pick up a few household items after my preceptor had been called away on a birth. In the store I was searching for a composition notebook for my paper journal when a very old woman came up to me and said she couldn't see but she was looking for letter writing paper. I pointed her to the right paper and she thanked me and went to get it, then turned back and approached me again. She said that her husband had always had a cough, and that he'd just been diagnosed with lung and colon cancer. He was going in for some appointment. I didn't know what to say. There was nothing I could say. I opened my arms and she stepped in, and I hugged her, held her close. We both broke into tears. She thanked me again. I mourn for her.

I find myself extremely intolerant of advice at this time. Well meaning friends keep wanting to help me understand where I went wrong. It is obvious where I went wrong. I was born. Don't try to teach me any lessons right now. This suffering must be completed. Platitudes are useless.

Comments

liveonearth
Sep. 17th, 2011 09:32 pm (UTC)
Kindness
by Naomi Shihab Nye

Before you know what kindness really is
you must lose things,
feel the future dissolve in a moment
like salt in a weakened broth.

What you held in your hand,
what you counted and carefully saved,
all this must go so you know
how desolate the landscape can be
between the regions of kindness.

How you ride and ride
thinking the bus will never stop,
the passengers eating maize and chicken
will stare out the window forever.

Before you learn the tender gravity of kindness,
you must travel where the Indian in a white poncho
lies dead by the side of the road.

You must see how this could be you,
how he too was someone
who journeyed through the night with plans
and the simple breath that kept him alive.

Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside,
you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing.
You must wake up with sorrow.
You must speak to it till your voice
catches the thread of all sorrows
and you see the size of the cloth.

Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore,
only kindness that ties your shoes
and sends you out into the day to mail letters and purchase bread,
only kindness that raises its head
from the crowd of the world to say
it is I you have been looking for,
and then goes with you every where
like a shadow or a friend.
calizen
Sep. 18th, 2011 01:09 am (UTC)
I have that in my quote files and it gives me chills every time I read it. Times are hard, yes. But there are other things about in this world, and one of them is Kindness.
liveonearth
Sep. 18th, 2011 05:12 am (UTC)
=-] A favorite truth.

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