Singing, Pain, Tolerance, Dust

As the sun rose, I sat facing the garden. The trunk of the majestic locust tree was on the right, the branches of the stately pines, heavy with newly fallen snow were on the left. Nature was singing. I felt small—not only physically. I felt my incorporeal smallness.

I thought about an evening when someone we were celebrating was dwarfed by another who became the center of attention. The only person who could have stopped her was the one most drawn into her web. She had the power to make that person’s heart sing until all else around her faded away.

How do we protect people we love, who are being pushed aside by those who care only about their needs?

While talking to someone going through a really rough time—hurt by a person she once trusted—I could feel her holding her breath as pain wrapped around her like a noose, threatening to choke the life out of her.

That kind of pain can bring you to your knees with a burden so heavy you feel like you could drown in its darkness and disappointment so oppressive that you can’t move from underneath its suffocating weight. Your soul experiences heartache delivered by the “less-than” of this world.

Have you ever felt like life was being choked out of you?

One day I was thanked for “tolerating” another person. I thought about tolerance—the capacity to endure or allow something.

If you were taught that “it can’t always be about you—others matter too”, you’re probably pretty tolerant. If you were raised believing that you’re always more important than everyone else, you may be intolerant. Some people have really high acceptance levels; able to easily “roll with the punches”. Others are masters of narrow-mindedness; not able to see anything outside of themselves.

If you’re in the presence of a person who’s challenging to tolerate, how do you handle it?

When the sun shines through the window just right, I notice dust in the air—floating bits that I usually don’t perceive. Just because we don’t see something with our eyes, doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.

Sometimes, people don’t see the dust of life. They look through it or around it; rarely picking up a cloth and wiping it off the surface and never doing a thorough cleaning. They’re content with the dusty reality they’re used to. Acknowledging the dust would mean shaking things up, and being willing to see beyond what’s right in front of them.

Are you brave enough to see what can’t be seen unless the light is shining just right?

As I sat facing the garden, I became mindful of the connection between singingpain, tolerance, and dust—the connection between all of our human experiences, positive and negative. In that awareness, I took one more step forward in understanding. I didn’t feel quite as small.

©2019 peace full home®/intentional living

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