“The important thing is not to stop asking questions. Curiosity has its own reasons for existence.” ~ Albert Einstein
“I don’t want to live anymore. I don’t want to be here. I can’t do this. It hurts. It’s too difficult.”
I wonder if I’ve heard these words many times in my life. From different people, ages, genders, ethnicities, and life history. The words are the same, the weight does not change from one to the next. Despair is accompanied by a specific tone. Flat, low, and empty.
As a child of a parent who committed suicide, when I hear these words, my inner fears strike me. Super awakening and tuning, knowing that it was time to roll up my sleeves.
As a psychotherapist, there is a checklist that goes through my head to make sure I ask all the correct questions when assessing the level of pain they are experiencing.
As a human being, a wave of warm compassion is carried over, feeling what this particular soul needs.
I ask after asking a typical safety question and determining that this person has no significant risk of ending their lives. What do you think will happen after you die? Where are you going How do you feel How do you feel now when you die? “
The answers range from “dark and numb, numb, non-existent” to “being in heaven and ending”, but are often said to be “don’t know.”
I ask questions from time to time. “Well, how can I guarantee that it’s better than this? What if it’s worse? What if I need to relive everything again? Trapped in a dark abyss? What would you do if you couldn’t get out? “
Often they don’t ponder this. They are not thinking about what they are thinking next. The main reason is that they are actually saying ” this Already. “
understood. We all have those moments.
Then I dig deeper:
“How do you know that your miracle isn’t imminent? How do you know that if you give another day an opportunity, no relief will come tomorrow? When it all becomes just as miserable What would be intriguing about the following, rather than assuming?
It wasn’t always like this, so will I be able to feel joy and freedom again someday?
Looking at your past, you can see that you had many fears and low moments. Did they stay the same or have they changed? Most of your fears didn’t come true, and if so, you survived — you got over it. You may have learned something or strengthened your ability to be brave.
Looking back, you can see that your world is constantly changing and there is a life of evidence that it is changing. You will see many moments when things may have felt like you are not going in the direction you want, but you probably see the same number of moments that led you to exactly what you need. Let’s do it. Use them as proof that your amazing joy may be right there. “
During these conversations, my own curiosity resurfaces. I ponder if my mother could hold on to what her life was like for a little longer. I wonder if another drug helped her. Or if the moving book words may have given her hope to keep holding. Or if the sensation of the sun on her face kissed her long enough that she wanted a little more.
What if she continues to be curious about what’s coming, rather than deciding that she has no surprises or joy left? Did she feel the bittersweet moment of seeing me graduate from high school? Was she there to cheer me up when I got my master’s degree, hoping to help people as well as her? Did she hug my daughter, her first grandson, and shed tears of joy to know she had accomplished it?
Who knows how her life would have been if she had held up for another day? I never know, but I’m interested.
I’ve been sitting with them while countless children and adults are in pain. I feel pain for them, cry for them, and hope for them again. I wonder loudly what will happen next that we can’t see.
We’ve seen pregnancy begin when hope goes away, new relationships are born when we’re convinced that the people involved never feel loved again, and new jobs emerge out of nowhere at the “right” time. I was pregnant. I have seen moments of joy in the hearts of those who were convinced that the illness disappeared and no light remained as they began to pay attention to themselves.
The truth is, we don’t know what will happen next, but we know what we have achieved so far. How can we know that tomorrow is not what we have been waiting for?
I think our basic feelings as human beings are peace. The loving tranquility that fills us when we are in front of the people we love. It’s like the whole thing we feel when we do something we’re proud of and reconnect with the love we’re making. How we feel when we give love to others, and how we feel when that love comes back.
I also believe that the human experience is full of hardships, difficulties and challenges. We don’t want to get out of it. We believe that we have the power to lean into pain and overcome it. Use our experience as our strength and as knowledge for the next wave of frustration.
I don’t think we’re going to suffer, but rather prosper in the face of difficulties and learn to guide us using hope as a handle … no light in front of us Maybe, but a corner that knows it’s just around.
And the more we adopt this faith and our practices that support us, the faster we can return to the peace beneath it.
What is it like to tolerate curiosity in difficult moments? Not only acknowledging the feelings in front of us, but also feeling them, but taking into account the possibilities that may arise.
All our experiences involve the free will to choose how we deal with them. With openness and wonder or dismissal and resistance. You can feel it all at once. Feelings are gone. They always do so.
The next time you feel sick or have a never-ending experience, think about it. What will happen to this? What will you get? What strengths will you acquire and how will you support yourself? What kind of beauty lies beyond this pain? Instead of pushing it through, surrender to it.
Next, consider curiosity. It is open. You never know what surprises the day may bring. Maybe today is the day when it all changes. Or maybe tomorrow. You may not know the day, but you can be ready and open when it arrives.