” This should have not happened. I should not have been so wounded. I was so better before this happened to me. ”
She kept saying this to herself, for days, for months, for almost a year.
The pain was unbearable at times. Sometimes, she would ache and howl, and sometimes she just wanted to shut it all out.
One day, as she was cooking, lentils and rice, on one of her better days, it dawned upon her,
” Perhaps, one cannot stop being wounded at times. One cannot stop what happens in life at times. One can though, learn to deal with it, learn to express it, work with it, and perhaps, allow the wound to be a passage to the soul allowing the light and truth of soul, coming into the being and body”
This was almost a realization in an unsaid voice.
She finished her meal, and the self reflection, sort of epiphany, continued. She felt that the pain at times may be unbearable, sometimes, excruciating, and yet, everytime she chooses to bring the light in, it becomes bearable. She does feel light soothing her, just like the drops of rain, soothing the parched soil. It is refreshing and brings in new hope. A single shower at times, may not be enough, to restore the fertility in parched lands, and yet, with every shower, the soil returns , to its fertility, the womb awakens, and the power of life in soil, for life to grow, awakens.
In many ways, this is the depth of light, she needs to continue to seek, at times pray for or simply ask. Ask the divine, ask the universe. Ask her own infinite higherself. She knows by now, of her infinite higher self, that is simply herself in an expanded form. She knows by now, praying does soothe her at times. She knows by now, she can simply seek light, love, direction and clarity from divine. She knows she can nurture this in herself, even while in deep agony or easier space.
By evening, as she stood in her balcony, watching the clouds, and in a distance, a man plugging a big nail in the wall, she realised, one needs a hammer or something heavy, to plug in the nail in the wall, to connect the nail and wall and to hold that connection intact.
In her own life, the woundedness is like a hammer, nailing her, to her own soul, connecting her being and body, the consciousness within, to the light of Source and soul. Sometimes, even connecting, the Soul to its eternal nature, and the depths uncovered so far.
Just as she was absorbed in this deep realization, the raindrops fell on her face, with the soft breeze embracing her, the very first rain of the season.