I would hold on to you my dear agony,
Cause This is my destiny.
I will cling to you cause you are my reality.
I will hide you deep,
Penetrated beneath me.
An invisible part of my dear soul.
Smiling,fallaciously Each day
Living my life every moment.
Life seemed so ordinary.
None knew.
The extra ordinary part of me.
My overwhelming agony.
Drowning,
Almost gone in the whirlpool of my grief.
Something held on to me,
A desire to not be blown out,
I decided to ride my agony.
Make it my weapon.
I nurtured it, kept it inside for so long.
Now I have learnt to ride it.
Go Inside me, when it bothered me.
This my dear is my invisible tool.
I would use pain,my agony.
To ride on me dreams.
Go places you cannot understand.
Inside me is filled with mystery.
It is undiscovered land.
I am loving exploring me.
And it's so much fun.
Guess what? it's totally free.
Sadly none is welcomed to
Share that part of me.
I have come to love my agony.
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I looked around and realised that all of us are facing exact same things, our omnipresent enemy: grief, sorrow, regret ....we could give a million names. In practical sense they mean just one thing "
Our inability to deal with reality" it can be Love, loss, betrayal or anything.
The emotional pain we experience is so excruciating. I feel for all those who are battling dealing with some form of it.Some are brave some fall to these. The rate at which people are going crazy is higher than any other rate. We as a specie are loosing universally to grief, then why do we not hesitate to cause it? People are depressed globally. The need for special care has been recognised. So many are suffering already.
All of us know what would inflict it and who would be impacted, but yet we do not hesitate. How ironic?
Those affected are the once we claim to love. "Love" is it a weakness? Causing suffering.
It sure seems like that on a macro level, diving little deeper I see it is a strength to love and that becomes the strength for the week to correct themselves.
There are a million examples around us in daily life, where it's evident how drastic a change could be in somebody if nourished with love. In Buddha mythology there is a famous story about a man who was a ferocious robber, stealing unnecessarily, killing innocent life's causing so much misery. Buddha asked him why are you inflicting so much agony on innocent poor life's? Are you achieving anything? He explained that he experienced a loss himself and is now revenging. Buddha said what are you achieving, so many are dead and so many have become helpless. With you and your agony it's just you who is suffering. Do you think spreading it would get you back your loved once. This conversation brought a complete realisation and that man changed for good.Later became a renowned saint, doing unconditional service for humanity. That I feel is the power of Love and compassion.
The point here is that spreading sorrow is no solution, acceptance and realisation of what went wrong? How we could have averted it brings growth, emotional stability.
There is no education around it, we are not sharing our real learning's. We know there is little cure for it and it's killing a precious part of human race. So many commit suicide so many harm themselves. I pondered and found no solution to how we can stop it.
I cannot say how to stop it but I think there is an effective and productive way to live with it in harmony.I feel there is a way to come in terms with all agony, and that is to accept it, express it, and understand it.
For those who cause it it is an agony of guilt a different kind of pain seeing their loved once suffer because they caused it. For those who are victimised it is a much deeper pain. But all of it could be simply dealt with, by our understanding. And creating an environment where we are freely able to express it.Communicate our learning's. Diminishing the once who have erred is the reason we try to cover up, sharing and acceptance is the way towards change. I think it's OK to make mistakes and learn move on. The poison of suffering can only be captured by total understanding.
“Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak knits up the o-er wrought heart and bids it break.”
― William Shakespeare, Macbeth
