Same old, same old

I've been in the quiet place for a few days now, that place I go when I really don't want to talk to anyone, when I don't have anything to say that needs or wants to go outward. I talk to myself endlessly, but nothing I whisper to myself is for anyone else.

As regularly as I go to the quiet place, I come out of it, usually when I feel compelled, absolutely compelled, to say something to someone. This most recent silence is ended because I was thinking about pain

It's very hard for me to see people I care about in pain, especially emotional pain. Sometimes I can say something that will help--when I do, it feels as if the words are moving through me, not coming from me--but I don't always know what to say, and the things I think of seem arid and stupid.

When that happens, when someone's in pain and I don't know what to do, it makes me anxious. The kicker is that, until today, I didn't even realize that it made me anxious.

What triggered the realization was something only indirectly related to the insight. I'm currently reading Called to Question: A Spiritual Memoir by Joan D. Chittister, O.S.B., and in the chapter called Darkness, Sr. Chittister talks about the "reluctance to change that has been the scourge of my life." Later, she talks about "sensitivity to the depth of pain in others."

Somehow, those two thoughts came together in my mind, and I suddenly understood that I fear my loved ones' pain because I can't be sure I can fix it, and if I can't fix it, I don't know what they'll do. And what they might do is something catastrophic (although the feeling is more like 'Very Bad' than 'catastrophic').

The scourge of my life is the feeling that I'm responsible. For what? For whatever's gone wrong, however cosmic. It's my job to fix everything. Terrorism? I should have fixed it. Mideast turmoil? I should have fixed it. AIDS? Crushing poverty and oppression? All the endless ways we're cruel to one another? Yep. I should have fixed those too.

Intellectually, I understand what nonsense this is. Emotionally, not so much. That's why I struggle with it over and over again; that's why the phrase 'scourge of my life' resonated so strongly with me.

Struggling with the same thing over and over again is maddening--"Hello! When am I going to figure this out???"--but it's also a blessing. Even if it seems like the same old issue over and over again--even if it is the same old issue over and over again--it's not the same old me wrestling with it. Every time I get in the ring with my old adversary, I bring with me all the experiences of wrestling with it before. Because so much of the battle isn't new, I can focus on the things that are new and learn from them. My understanding of myself deepens, and that understanding flows outward to encompass much more than this single battle, this single issue.

So while it was annoying to realize that the monster was here, too, wound through my desire that my loved ones be spared suffering, it was also something of a relief: "Oh, you again." A sigh. "Well, I know what to do with you."

In this case, the only thing I can truly do is be present and aware, ears and eyes and loving heart. I can't fix anything, but I can be a witness. And that will have to do.