Will's 20th Birthday

I can't believe it. My oldest son is celebrating his 20th birthday. He came home this weekend to visit with us and some friends who are in town.

Having children certainly is a safari life. I had no idea when I adopted this beautiful baby in Peru that he would bring such extremes of joy and pain, heartache and celebration. And I had no idea how deep a love could be.

On this occasion, I take time to reflect on these years, with all of their gifts. You know, some of them weren't beautifully wrapped or gracefully presented. And yet they all brought us to where we are now, a lively, quirky family of teasing and laughter, annoyance and exasperation, gathered around the dinner table for a special meal, celebrating this wonderful young man. My boy.

Tiny Little Facebook Rant

Doesn't anyone ever post that they're miserable? You know that 'What are you doing right now?' space? Is there a rule that in the space that follows, 'Laura is', I have to put down something cheerful? Or am I the only one with almost exclusively good-mood friends doing loads of fun things?

The Journey of Suffering

Doesn't sound very cheerful, does it?

I’ve been a life coach for a while, now. And in that time, I’ve had dozens of clients, all of whom were suffering, in their own unique ways. In all of that time, I’ve been suffering, too.

I believe the truth is that we're all suffering.

Suffering comes in many forms. In the past two years, I’ve suffered the loss of both parents and two dear friends. Each one brought its own special hell of grief.

There is the suffering of watching someone we love suffer. That's another unique brand of pain, whether we can assuage the suffering or not. I know that agony as a mother and as a person who can sometimes bear to listen to NPR news.

There is biochemical suffering, too. When depression grabs us by the heart and throat and whole body, we feel powerless to rise above and find our "old self". That was me, from around September through December.

And there is self-imposed suffering. Beliefs we hold which cause us pain. Wanting what we don't have. Wishing we were someone we're not. Not loving ourselves and our lives enough. Not believing we are enough, just as we are. Believing we are stuck in whatever uncomfortable position we find ourselves in. That's pretty much me, too - year 'round, sometimes more, sometimes less.

I'm sure you can think of other ways we suffer. Or other ways that you suffer.

In the past couple of years, I've learned a lot about grief and suffering. I believe grief and suffering are very different things. For me, grief is the inescapable deep pain of loss. It can be agonizing in its intensity, allowing very little, if any, respite. And yet, over time, this agony diminishes, and is held differently in the heart.

Suffering has a different quality, more subtle, and yet is no less debilitating for its subtlety. In its subtlety, it can slip inside of me without my even noticing. I can hold it for eternity, allowing it to always have a hold on me, power over me. And at other times, my suffering is an obvious enemy - brutal, savage and refusing to be ignored.

As all living things do, we seek pleasure and strive to avoid pain. And sometimes when we strive to avoid pain, we only ensure more pain. Pain brought by limiting our lives, by accepting the lies we tell ourselves, or by burying the pain and thinking it will go away if we ignore it long enough.

My coaching business is called Safari Life Coaching because I really believe that life is like a safari. We travel through our lives, never knowing what is around the next bend, and every turn offers new learning, surprise and adventure. I've come to believe that the purpose of life, at least my life, is to learn, to be surprised, and to love the adventure of the journey.

Suffering provides so much fertile ground for learning.

Hermann Hesse said, "You know quite well, deep within you, that there is only a single magic, a single power, a single salvation...and that is called loving. Well, then, love your suffering. Do not resist it, do not flee from it. It is your aversion that hurts, nothing else."

My invitation to us all is to embrace, yes, to love the suffering, for it holds so much promise for growth, change, and joy. As I screw up my courage to explore the depths of my own suffering, I'm pretty sure I just might find that the path leads to a life of authenticity and deep peace. Damn, I hope I'm right.