PEN TO PAPER | MOMENTS OF HEALING REFLECTION
Pain with Purpose

Pain with purpose Meaning known Pain with purpose Hindsight grown Pain the name Expansion the game
Expected in birth Transparent worth
Sudden loss Emotions cross
Pain all the same Meaning to tame Identity shifts Pain with purpose Journey of life gifts Pain with purpose
This piece was tough to write. It had been on my mind all week, but I had been putting it off.
When I put my pen to paper this morning, I was all set to write about bliss.
My hand instinctively wrote the word “Pain” — I knew the time had come to shine the light.
Earlier this week I read these pieces by Tony Young, Jr.
It was the day I found out some news from a loved one.
It has been simmering in the back of my throat since.
Yep, my throat is where I hold a lot of my unprocessed emotion. My tears were sitting patiently there, waiting to flow down my cheeks.
Bottled up words sitting right next to them.
My jaw, slightly clenched, unnoticed until noticed.
Feeling tired, but not knowing why.
Trista Ainsworth’s words gifted me comfort in knowing we all have days of lower energy.
Then came Paroma Sen’s piece. Convincing myself, I was in a season of bliss. Replying as much in the response I left. Lying to myself-for the world to see! Ignoring the signs once again.
When I woke up, I had an anxious feeling.
Confusion.
When “pain” appeared on my page, I knew today was the day to process.
The pain doesn’t belong to me. Even still, I feel it. It belongs to my little brother. In a few short years, he has been on a massive rollercoaster of highs and lows.
Meeting his now-wife, travelling overseas together, buying a house, marrying, announcing twins, losing one of them in utero at 30 weeks, welcoming a new baby while burying another, adjusting to being a dad, and now — the loss of his father in law. A sudden accident on the other side of the world.
He was at a friend’s wedding when the news was delivered. Only hearing one side of the conversation, he initially thought it was about his daughter. The pain of losing her twin hit him with full force.
An immediate sense of relief, when he found out, it wasn’t her, before the reality of the situation sunk in.
His wife and almost one-year-old daughter, now set to travel during a time of restriction. Away for at least two months because of current world events.
He deals with it on the surface with humour and strength. I know the darkness sits, waiting for him to process. It appears in his way — usually amongst his mates over drinks. He grieves when he can let down his guard. I typically get the aftermath when he laughs at himself for being human.
His wife processes through action. Planning, organising, doing and sharing her emotions.
They are both learning how to accept the difference in processing.
We each process in our way.
Writing — the healer for me. My lump is still there, but I know why now. I can feel it getting smaller. I know I can show up for my brother and his family with open ears and arms.
Life is full of painful moments. They are unavoidable. It is life.
Pain a builder of strength and connection — when we choose to let it.
Thanks, Suntonu Bhadra for gifting me the healing power of putting pen to paper.
The explanation of the poem lengthy, but it was what flowed after putting pen to paper and felt they belonged together.
Thanks for reading
Thanks for being you
