Sadness has descended upon me today. And yet, I feel that I have no real reason for sorrow. So where is it coming from? Who, within me, weeps?
I search the darkness within to find the source of the tears.
The child weeps within. The teenager weeps within.
Why?
The child feels that she is alone in her sorrow. She is sad and feels that everyone is telling her that she has no reason to be sad. Her tears fall, but she makes no sound.
The teenager cries in silence. She is alone in her sorrow. No-one will listen. No-one will understand. No-one cares. As usual, it is up to her to cry for herself, because no-one else will.
The adult cries for the child and the teenager. She feels their pain and the depth of their sorrow. She asks, “Why do you make me sad today?”
The child says, “I have no friends to play with. The people I care about – the ones who care about me, have all gone away. Those who are still here, think I should be happy all the time. They are afraid of to see my tears. I want to laugh and play like a child. But nobody will come to play here because I am broken.”
The teenager says, “I have no friends to laugh with. I need to do normal teenage things. I have never been able to do normal teenage things. I’ve never been to a sleep over. Nobody has ever been here for a sleep over. I’ve never been to camps. I’ve never just been allowed to be me. Now we’ve all grown up, I feel left behind. I’m still here, but everyone else has grown up and doesn’t want to play and laugh and sing any more. I am broken and they have all left me behind.”
The two blend into one.
“We’re broken. It wasn’t our fault. We broke. Now we’re not the same. Our bodies don’t work the way they should. We’ve been blamed for breaking ourselves. We’ve been told to fix ourselves, and we’ve been left alone until the job is done. We don’t know how to fix us. Now, everybody has turned their back and walked away. They don’t want to help. They don’t want to see what happens. They only want to come back if we are whole again.”
I weep for the child, the teenager and the adult who is broken.
So, healer. Heal thyself.
But the healer inside is weary. I heal, I heal, I heal. Every day I find something within me that needs healing. Every day I heal it. Every day there is more to be healed. Every day there are more friends who come to me for healing. They all want. They all take. Nobody gives. I try to give to me, but I’m told I spend too much time healing myself and not enough time doing everything else that needs to be done in the practical, physical world.
So, I stop healing me and do all the boring, physical things that will please others. But they are never pleased. They are never satisfied. There is always something I have not done. Now they say, “Your body isn’t working. Go away and fix it.”
I don’t want to go away. I don’t want to do this alone. I want this fixed. I did not ask for this. I merely, patiently, calmly, with dignity, endure this. I know in my heart and soul that I will be healed. But healing is hard. It takes time. It takes effort. It takes more than just me alone to heal my body.
And yet, you metaphysically turn away and say, “Fix it, and when you are back to being the same again, I will turn my face to you.”
But I will not be the same when I am healed. I will have traveled a long, hard journey. I will have been through the fire. I will carry the scars. The scars will be my lessons, my knowledge, my strength. I will not be the same when I am healed. I will have grown more powerful, more knowledgeable; my light will shine brighter in the world.
Sometimes I think you think it would be easier for you if I died.
You don’t want to see me suffer so you turn away. You want to close your eyes and not see this. If you can’t see it, it won’t be so.
But it is so. It will be so. I chose this road a long time ago. I knew what I would face. I agreed to face it. By my will, I shall endure. I will not die here and now. It is not my time.
I will be healed. I will be joyous. But I will not be the same when I am healed.
You will be the same when I am healed. You will think you have helped me. I will think I have healed alone. Somewhere between is the truth.
You will be the same when I am healed.
I will not be the same when I am healed.
That is the source of my sorrow.
I have chosen to walk this path with you. To be your teacher. To change your soul. To heal your ancient soul.
You have learned a lot, but you don’t know that yet. You will not know that until I am gone.
That is my path. That is my sorrow. For you to learn all that you must learn, I must die.
Watching my journey through the darkness and into the light will not change you. It will change me.
For that, I cry. I cry for me because the road is hard and lonely. No-one can travel with me. I must do this alone. I must leave those who love me at the doorway and carry their love with me knowing that they will be there at the other end waiting for me to emerge into the light.
Will you be there?
I am broken, and I will be healed, but I will never be the same again.
