Sunday, February 15, 2009

Life is about pain and how we deal with it

So my life right now involves a lot of self-inflicted sadness, pain, and what a lot of people call depression. And I think a lot of maturing that happens in life is how we deal with pain. Because pain will come. There's no doubt about it, and you'll lose every argument saying that there's no such thing as pain. But pain can help us, if we're willing to let it work, and if we use it to shape us in a positive way. My thoughts are scattered right now and I can't really focus, but I think what I need to do is channel the pain in my life into the want-to to change. This poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow is a great illustration of the fact of pain:

The Rainy Day
The day is cold, and dark, and dreary;
It rains, and the wind is never weary;
The vine still clings to the moldering wall,
But at every gust the dead leaves fall,
And the day is dark and dreary.

My life is cold, and dark, and dreary;
It rains, and the wind is never weary;
My thoughts still cling to the moldering Past,
But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast
And the days are dark and dreary.

Be still, sad heart! and cease repining;
Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;
Thy fate is the common fate of all,
Into each life some rain must fall,
Some days must be dark and dreary.

My mind works in music, and so I'm displaying this song by REM. It's not especially helpful for dealing with the pain, because I don't think comforting ourselves in the realization that everybody else has hurt too will ultimately change us.

Pain should give us the motivation to change and not let the same thing happen again.


  1. yep. pain SUCKS.

    and you are right. it doesn't help much to know that everybody else hurts, even if they hurt worse. it still hurts just as much. blek.

  2. Good poem, Peter. I relate to good ole Henry too, sometimes...

    One of the things I love about our Jesus is that he knew pain. Deeply. While it doesn't help just to know that everybody suffers (the conclusion that Longfellow seems to arrive at, no?), it does help me that my pain is known by Another, one who understands my hurt, sympathizes with me, cares deeply for me and wants my best. And the Man of Sorrows never offers glib advice to "just cheer up"; he does say, "Come to me. Rest."

    I like him.

    Deep down, too, I hold on to a belief that the pain in my life is never wasted--He's too good and loves his children too well. Someday I'll look back over my life with his eyes, and marvel.