There are conversations we avoid in life. Usually they are conversations that result in pain. Naturally, we want to avoid pain for the “higher ground” of pleasure. We cloth ourselves in pleasure while trying our best to shun off the rags of pain. Some wear pain with pride as only through the painful conversations, we begin to get a glimpse of inner peace and confidence.
I find myself having painful conversations every day. I am both the speaker and the listener. The ax men and the victim. The healer and the destroyer. The pain first starts with a level of resistance. Resistance begins and ends with the mind. Resistance is the voice that talks you out of having that painful conversation. It speaks eloquently and silently creeps into your mind and grows louder as the seconds pass, giving you time to hear its words.
It spews its flowery words of weakness. You must close its mouth immediately before the seconds begin to accumulate. One inhale. One exhale. I tell you, breathing never felt so better.
As I grab the battling ropes, I can feel the burn in my back as the blood in my forearms turn into liquid lava and the sweat trickles down my back. I know I am reaching the point of departure towards a different realm of thought. I close my eyes and then I arrive.
I arrive at this moment of blackness where there is no sound and no sight. Just blackness. I feel all the pain but I don’t sense it. My mind carries me into a realm where the conversation begins. I talk with the darkness and it is a conversation without words. All things are shut out. My mind becomes numb to the pain, leaving my body to do the work without feeling its effect. Everything around me is moving but I don’t feel it. The breath becomes calmer and the mind becomes centered on the task at hand. I am there. I am in it. I am in the fire and I am controlling the fire of my mind, preventing it from burning and destroying everything in its path. This is where I belong, in the fiery blackness.
Then the alarm goes off and I open my eyes. I open my eyes and I return back to this world. Nothing looks the same as it did before I closed my eyes.
The conversation is over for now, but it will resume again tomorrow.
Photo Credit: “Fire”. Wikipedia. 2004.