Spiritual Pain

There is something extremely trustworthy about pain, especially spiritual pain. For those unfamiliar with spiritual pain, the concept itself may come across as odd or imaginary. But for those intimately acquainted with this pain, it is all too real, and not a matter of mere semantics either, no matter how one defines the spiritual, for while just about anything else in life might be called into question, there is simply no denying the excruciating and exhausting clarity of knowing such essential hurt at the heart of one’s being. The anguish is other than physical (although its symptoms can certainly manifest that way), as well as more than emotional (although intertwined), and can perhaps best be described as existentially central, undeniable, largely ineffable, and at times even more concrete than the ground under one’s feet. Whether caused by an unwelcome medical diagnosis, the untimely death of someone dear to us, the unexpected dissolving of a longstanding identity, or a hundred other reasons, and sometimes no apparent reason at all, spiritual pain anchors us to life with such profound intensity and terrible clarity that it can be called, in this sense, trustworthy. The pain is there. It harbors its own harrowing energy. It is committed to us, certainly more than we are to it, and though we would distract ourselves from this pain at almost any cost, the best medicinal is, in fact, the opposite: to develop a commitment to heal the hurt, yes, but even further to allow it to actually come closer, as a Gaelic blessing once put it, and, in the end, become one with us.

Spiritual pain might consist of a loss of meaning in life, broken relationships, a need to forgive others (or ourselves), as well as coming to terms with our mortality, as Richard Groves described the phenomenon. But also more basically, spiritual pain is first and foremost to be believed. W. H. Auden wrote, “Should you fail to keep your kingdom, and, like your father before you, come where thought accuses and feeling mocks, believe your pain…” Pain does not lie. Pain is trustworthy. Even more so than most things in this life. So when (not if) it gradually, or suddenly, strikes you at your core, believe it. Allow it. Welcome it. Until you and the pain are one. Then, and only then, will your becoming bear the true scars of one who has faced the behemoth and survived to tell the tale.