Where Does the Pain Go?

Where does the pain go? she asked me.
Since last night I've asked myself again and again.
In the moment I said "in my body."
I think it's in my body.
Where else could it go?
I've become so versed and confident in speaking of pain
like some familiar friend.
A person I know in and out.
Here, let me package this loss in a way that doesn't harm you,
doesn't make you squirm or generate looks that seem like pity.
I believe I've been dealing with it and processing it,
but it's possible some got suppressed.
In repackaging the complications,
I added new complications.
Muffled the way to my heart.
Protected others at the expense of my own processing.
It's entirely possible, I said.

Why do little things feel so hard?
Like getting up on time, doing dishes, cleaning the liter box.
Why? These little, small things.
I surmise because I had no choice with these big things.
Maybe it's existential, she suggested.
I am existential, that makes complete sense.
No say in the bigger, all encompassing, impossible feeling issues.
Compartmentalizing is survival, it seems.
I forget, sometimes, about all the different compartments, until I begin to disclose.
"Wow, that's so much. That's really heavy. But you're so happy, so nice" they might say.
Yes, maybe I am all these things.

My loss is no different than any loss, except that it's mine.
My Mom. My Sister. My sanity. My reality. My heart. My damn pain.
I've not given much space or permission to indulge in it for long because well...
it could be worse. It's not so bad. I'm lucky. I'm lucky.
That's true, too. I have gratitude, so much gratitude. My Dad. My Brother. Friends upon friends.
Safety upon safety and heart-to-heart, moment to moment they bring me back.
Remind me it's not so bad. There is goodness.
But also, there is pain and loss and awful situations and we all have them. Maybe, yes.
Maybe it's both and all. Coffee and tea. Cinnamon and sugar. Bitter and sweet.
Yes, all of it. Together and separate and mixed into a big beautiful pie.

Buddhism teaches that life is suffering
and initially I found it to be so uncouth and off-putting.
How pessimistic, how negative, how uncool.
But much later it returned to me a comforting persona,
frameworks and guiding light in an atmosphere of chaos.
Sense of togetherness and shared struggles.
The good just as long lasting as the bad, neither here nor there.
Just is. Just is. Just is as it is.
But along the way I feel the feels, temper the pain with remembrance of the good.
Sure, I've survived and made it on through. To here.
To the location of this pain. I'm finding it, seeing it, being it.
Suffering the healing beauty of it.

So, where does the pain go?
It's here, it's there, it's everywhere.
You and me and he and them and she.
We are all this pain,
but for now I'm starting with me.
Here with this pain.
My body, my body, my temple.
Walking the path through my soul,
getting to know every inch and cranny, day by day.
Thank you, dear pain. I'm alive and well and seeing you through.
We got this, ok? We really do.







Work by Eugenia Loli