The gift of pain.

I've been thinking a lot about hurt and pain, as I've experienced quite a bit of both (in many different manifestations) lately.  The most fascinating thing about all this recent physical and psychological suffering is that I'm genuinely grateful for it.  In fact, as I've been working towards finding out what messages this pain may have for me, I'm becoming able to let go of some old habits that are no longer serving me.  And within this new very hard-won freedom, I'm also discovering a creative new space in which I can become different in ways that serve me much better.

As I've been reflecting on this process, I'm reminded of two things from two different very wise spiritual teachers.  The first is something the Dalai Lama said at a conference I attended in Chicago this past spring.  He was talking about his time as a youth in school, and made a reference to this set of whips the monks would use to discipline their students.  He explained to the audience that the monks used both a brown whip and a yellow whip, and that the yellow whip was referred to as the 'holy whip'.  His point?  Holy pain does not hurt any less.

I think I often want the spiritual path to be a little less painful than the non-spiritual path.  And I suppose it is less painful in some ways because suffering can be worked with skillfully, and meaning can be made from it.  But to echo the Dalai Lama:  IT STILL HURTS LIKE HELL.  

Nonetheless, I'm aware today that I needed this recent round of painful blows in order to wake up to more of who I truly want to become.  The second spiritual teacher I alluded to above may have said it best:

There's courage involved if you want to become truth. 
There is a broken-open place in a lover. 
Where are those qualities of bravery and sharp compassion? 

What's the use of old and frozen thought? 

I want a howling hurt.
This is not a treasury where gold is stored; this is for copper.
We alchemists look for talent that can heat up and change.    

Lukewarm won't do. 
Halfhearted holding back, well-enough getting by? 

Not here.

-Rumi