Tuesday, January 23, 2018

Finding the gift in the pain

I am currently spending a great deal of time and energy on my spiritual growth and healing, striving to live a life filled with peace, love, gratitude, and trust. On Monday nights I attend a public class hosted by a life coach called 'Empowered Living.' A theme we discuss often in this Monday night class is the idea that your biggest challenge (and the pain suffered) is also your greatest gift. My notes from last night's class begin with 'the pain is in the past - the gift is in the present.' This makes sense to me in regards to many situations, like divorce or the ending of any relationship, a job failure, financial failure, etc., but I'm having trouble trying to figure out how to apply it when there is no end to the pain, like when your son has a chronic illness with no cure.

The coach talked about facing our fear, our worst case scenario, and staring it down. He said to go home and stand in front of a door, and visualize what we fear the most on the other side of that door. On the other side of my door is my son's pain and suffering for the rest of his life. The coach instructed us to grab the knob, throw open the door, and see that there's really nothing there to fear. That even if our worst case scenario comes true, we will be 'ok.' Not that it won't hurt, and not that we won't struggle, but that we will survive. He also acknowledged that we may not be ready, may not be strong enough, confident enough, trusting enough yet to open that door, and if that is the case, that we should start smaller.

Today, the most I can do is sit in front of my door and think about the gifts. Because of his disease, I don't take a single moment with my children, especially the healthy ones, for granted. I hug them and kiss them and tell them often how lucky I am to be their mother. I tell my son I would take his pain if I could. I comfort him when he is afraid, and I tell him how strong he is when he's getting that IV, or attending a party where he can't eat the pizza, ice cream, cake, etc. I am grateful for the compassionate, sensitive, empathetic 12 year old he is because of his experiences. Maybe tomorrow I will be ready to take a step towards the door.

I took another note near the end of class. The coach wrote this on the white board, and instructed us to fill in the end.

Who do I want to be while...

My question looks like this: Who do I want to be while I raise a sick child?
I definitely don't want to be afraid, because that will just teach him to be afraid. I want to be courageous. I want to be full of so much faith and trust and hope that it spills out of me and into him.
The exciting part is that we can change our beliefs. It just starts with words.

Here are my new words that will become thoughts, and eventually beliefs:
I am courageous. I am faith. I am trust. I am hope. I love my life. I love myself. I radiate love, warmth, and light. I am peace.

With these words, I take back my power. I do not give it to the disease or the fear, and this is empowering.