“Maybe that’s where you put your pain.”
This past weekend swirled with activity. My children, their friends, and I went to the beach on Saturday to enjoy time together before my daughter flew back to Korea.
Then we ate dinner before taking Elya to the airport. I walked away from my precious daughter watching her wipe tears from her eyes. My heart ached inside as I resisted the compulsion to run back for one more hug. Even happy times precede sad partings.
Recently, I noticed the connection between my tendency to overwork and my attempts to deal with emotional pain. I wondered why I could not be like other people who are quite happy with going to work and coming home to watch television. On the weekends, they celebrate, purely and simply.
In contrast, I always have a dozen projects going while I envision a different future than my present reality. My tendency to do this perplexed me so I asked myself a series of questions in an attempt to understand:
“JoDee, why can’t you be like other people and accept your present career? Why do you always push yourself for more? What’s with these crazy dreams of becoming a published writer?”
The immediate thought that answered was, “Maybe that’s where you put your pain?”
“WOW! I thought that was pretty profound.
Yes, I have noticed that pain never stops as we go through life. Throughout my years spent recovering and rebuilding, veins of pain marbled the muscle of my efforts. Training to become a teacher and working hard at mastering the craft encompassed a fifteen-year process riddled with pain. Travail, sweat, call it want you want but I call it pain. Now I embrace the pain of having my children far from me as they travel the world.
Yet the common vein that always parallels my pain is the exercise of writing in order to put my pain somewhere. Writing enables me to grieve on paper and transform my despair into activities that benefit others.
Up until the 19th century, doctors practiced bloodletting. “Bloodletting (or blood-letting) is the withdrawal of often considerable quantities of blood from a patient to cure or prevent illness and disease. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bloodletting.
I want to create a new term I call painletting. With painletting, we use writing to drain away those agonizing feelings that threaten to disease us with bitterness. Then, we transform our sadness into hope for others. We create projects and purposes that can change our world.