Crosses We Bear
I have been told that we are all on different paths in
life and they must all be walked in different ways. Some go through beautiful
landscapes while others go through a proverbial swamp. As cliché as the saying
is…”life’s a journey, not a destination” rings true. We are spiritual beings,
living transient lives. When we die, we can’t take anything with us, so it begs
the question of why work your entire life to accumulate crap that will be short
lived. Judgment comes to the spirit and soul…it is who you are not how much
crap you’ve accumulated or how pretty your exterior walls are. This past
weekend I have been told in a spiritual debate that the goal in life is to be
happy and prosper while growing as an individual. That brought up many
questions in my mind.
What exactly is the idea of prosperous and happy? I
know what Webster’s dictionary means and I know how I define it, but does that
meaning hold true to others as well. The answer is no. I know this because this
weekend turned into a debate over this same issue. My best friends idea of
happiness and prosperity means that while we all go through tough times in
life, we eventually get our hearts desire, the person that we love, marriage,
kids and making an impact in the world, etc. While I think this is a sweet
sentiment, I don’t think it holds true for all of us.
I have my own cross to bear and it does not have a
rainbow at the end of its storm. There are no lights at the end of the tunnel.
My cross to bear has always been that of a cross. My path in life has been very
difficult, full of pain, hurt and loss at almost every turn. While I used to
hate it and despise life, I have grown to love it. I love its pain and losses
because it has made me who I am now and who I will be tomorrow. I don’t think I
would have the compassion and humility that I have now. Pain strengthens you. It
develops each of us into the kind of person we are. It is the old motto of “easy
come, easy go”….so when we chose to walk down a path that makes us most
comfortable, how do you ever learn who you are.
Think about this concept for a minute, if you will…..if
you have never had your heart ripped out, if you’ve never been in a situation
where you have no other place to go but on your knees, if you’ve never cried
yourself to sleep and been terrified of what and how you are going to care for
your kids the next day, but thankful you made it through today…..how will you
ever appreciate love when it encompasses you. A true and pure love that is
based solely on the person is breath taking. It should drive you up a tree, intoxicate
you, make you want to be with that person every waking moment for the sheer
pleasure of their company. When you make love to that person, you should be so
lost in each other that you can’t tell where one ends and the other begins. Their
scent, their voice, the fact you can give them the utmost pleasure should be
enough to make you get lost in them. Their touch should make you quiver. Eye
contact will make you lose your train of thought. That being said, how can
anyone ever be grateful for that feeling and learn to appreciate it and be
thankful that you have someone like that if you don’t know what sheer pain and
loss feels like. If you’ve never been homeless or not known where your next
meal was coming from, you cannot appreciate the meal in front of you.
One’s cross to bear in life is simple, regardless of
what you have been through, how much pain or heart ache, how much loss or
negativity, it boils down to learning to accept it all. Take it as a whole,
experience it, allow yourself to feel it. You will find peace. Then pick
yourself up, look at the sunrise and feel the opposite, if you are lucky enough
to find it as my heart has, and remember it’s where you are going that matters,
not where you have come from. Take the bull by the horns and move forward….your
past is a guide to caution and fear at times, but your heart never lies and
will lead you to unspeakable peace and a solemn joy; two things that if found
through the fires of pain are enough to move forward.
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