It has been just over two months since my father committed suicide. At this stage of the grieving process I find myself thinking less about his final act and more about his tender soul and compassionate heart. From an early age I knew both his great love and his great suffering. He had the power to fill a room with his warmth and put everyone who came into contact with him at ease. But he also felt weighted by his great compassionate heart and the overwhelming questions that come with feeling the pain of the world. Tragically, my father was sad and alone in his questions.
He used to tease me about my own sensitivity. I was the only girl and next to rough and rowdy boys, I was quiet, reserved, and easily moved to tears. And this is still true. Without a conscious practice in equanimity, I have a tendency to dive into my compassionate heart and become overwhelmed by suffering - moved to either great sadness or fury. But I am not the only one. I am not an anomaly of too much feeling. I am simply human. My father was simply human.
Christopher Morton & Rachel Moriah
This world that we live in can tear us to shreds. Whether it’s family of origin and childhood wounds; a mankind operating largely on greed, hatred, and delusion; or the regret and self-loathing we feed ourselves when we lie down to sleep at night - the grief, fear, and confusion can easily take our souls hostage. And they are delicate - we are delicate souls. No being walks immune to the effects of the violence we surround ourselves with.
My hope however, for all living beings, is that we learn to find the strength in our delicate nature. Compassion asks us to feel the pain of the world, but it does not stop there. If we listen - if we truly listen to and honor our sensitive souls, then they will feed us with insight, creativity, and purpose. In surrendering to our softness, we are given strength. We are empowered with the wisdom and courage to find our way through the darkness and deeply know the indestructible nature of life.
Seattle Sidewalk
If you would grow to your best self
Be patient, not demanding
Accepting, not condemning
Nurturing, not withholding
Self-marveling, not belittling
Gently guiding, not pushing and punishing
For you are more sensitive than you know
Mankind is as tough as war yet delicate as flowers
We can endure agonies but we open fully only to warmth and light
And our need to grow is as fragile as a fragrance
Dispersed by storms of will
To return only when those storms are still
So, accept, respect, attend your sensitivity
A flower cannot be opened with a hammer.
- Daniel F. Mead