“But anguish, like ecstasy, is not forever.”

By katmeow

During one of the toughest times of my life, I discovered pain so deep, sorrow so suffocating, and emptiness so vast, that I did not know what to do with myself nor where to go. During this time in my life, I tried to grasp on to anything and everything. Just to make it a little more bearable, so that I may continue on another day. Another day was a chance to find my way again.

Like all people, when in the thick of dark days, I felt hopeless and lonely. There were days that I didn’t know how to wake up. That I didn’t want to wake up to feeling all the pain inside me. And when I was awake, I felt like it was all a nightmare, and all I wanted to do was go back to sleep, so that I may wake up again to a different reality.

Looking back, I realize that those days were what shaped me. Those days, and the seemingly small efforts, is what made me who I am today. Those days are the only reason my heart beats fully, openly, and vibrantly.

In the midst of darkness, I found a soft light. It was glowing soft and barely visible at first. But as I got closer to it, it begin to fill the spaces in my heart and wrapped around me like a warm hug.

This light was yoga, and the most loving and compassionate teacher who opened my heart to it. In all my life, I’ve learned to only forget and push the pain away. I’ve only known how to destroy myself in hopes of destroying the pain until I got sick of it and give up on that also. Or until I’ve destroyed myself so much that there was nothing left to destroy.

Yoga taught me to be ME. Yoga taught me to ask myself what I needed. Yoga taught me to pay attention to myself, my inner workings, my heart, and taught me to nurture myself. Yoga taught me to heal.

I remember one particular evening after Ashtanga practice, my teacher was reading a passage from a very worn book. She always read a passage from this book, along with a few others, after Savasana, while we are sitting and meditating, before we chant Aum to close our practice.

It has taken five years for me to find this book. I couldn’t remember exactly the title of the book, but I knew it was something like “365 Prayers”. I have browsed and bought many daily meditation books, but it was never the one.

It came in the mail today. I immediately searched for the passage that my teacher read to me that day. The passage…her soft voice…it all brought so many emotions to the surface as I sobbed in class after she finished. I sobbed with no shame. No worries that the other students might be judging me. I had held it all in for so long, having it all weigh down my heart, that I could not help it. That I welcomed the relief. I sobbed and released the pain and sorrow within. For the first time, I felt hope. I felt like it was okay for me to be sad. I didn’t have to pretend that I am okay. I was not. It was all okay to feel what I was feeling. And in the end, after I get through it, I will be able to love and open my heart again. For the first time, I allowed myself to feel the pain fully, and see it as something helpful, something that reminds me I am human and will keep my soul and heart alive.

Here is the passage:

“When sorrow comes, let us accept it simply, as a part of life. Let the heart be open to pain; let it be stretched by it. All the evidence we have says that this is the better way. An open heart never grows bitter. Or if it does, it cannot remain so. In the desolate hour, there is an outcry; a clenching of the hands upon emptiness; a burning pain of bereavement; a weary ache of loss. But anguish, like ecstasy, is not forever. There comes a gentleness, a returning quietness, a restoring stillness. This, too, is a door to life. Here, also, is a deepening of meaning –and it can lead to dedication; a going forward to the triumph of th esoul, the conquering of the wilderness. And in the process will come a deepening inward knowledge that in the final reckonin, all is well.” —A. Powell Davies

I hope that whoever reads this can let it touch your soul. Remember that, no matter how dark the days, how heavy your heart feels, all that pain and sadness will not last forever. Just as we grieve when happiness and ecstasy comes to an end, we can find hope that pain and sorrow will have an end as well. Our first instinct is to push it away, turn our spirit away from it, because we are afraid. But pain and sorrow is all part of the human condition. It is what makes us our heart feel alive, just as happiness does. And without pain and sorrow, how do we truly understand happiness and love? When we can accept it is okay to feel all of those things, is when our heart truly lives.