painPain—an ache from which I seek relief.

Pain—a feeling to be avoided.

Pain—a thing I had hoped could be eliminated.

There is this illusion that a sober life will be a pain free life; I will eventually arrive at this sunny place of completeness accompanied by a pain-free living zone.

When this bright day doesn’t arrive (in my preordained time frame), I get this brilliant idea that a drink will solve something. I settle for the escape. It has yet to occur to me that life is my interaction with that which is around me; both the highs and the lows (The Law of Polarity).

Unless life is always going my way (never happens, for anybody) and/or I am in complete acceptance at all times (I’ve yet to meet this person), I will be experiencing pain or something like pain. No human is

exempt from these feelings.

My addictive mind could not stand discomfort. Escape was always at the forefront of my thinking. I was an avoider. Pain was better felt later—in every circumstance. Even when consequences rose with my prolonged avoidance, I did not care ENOUGH to step into the pain now rather than later.

If I am to remain peaceful I must learn to live with pain, at least until it passes. It needn’t be my best pal. I need only learn what to do with it when it arrives.

Essentially I learn: to step in when required, avoid when possible, and/or endure as nature dictates.

#1 Step-In

The non-favorite, as it requires that I say yes to the pain—now. The downside: I am welcoming a certain discomfort—now. The upside: I experience that feeling pain won’t harm me. I experience that I can endure pain. I experience that I am stronger, emotionally and/or spiritually, than I previously recognized. I am not as scared or worried to try it a subsequent time. I increase my personal armory; my overall sense of power and well-being as it relates to self.

#2 Avoid

A misunderstood tool because of misuse. Avoidance isn’t meant for me to remain free of the natural consequences of my behavior. (Which may very well be painful. Refer to #1 for a better coping tool.) Avoidance, by design, keeps me from harming myself. When used appropriately is a perfectly acceptable tool. I avoid that which harms me or those whom I love. In other words, I stay out of disaster’s way as is possible.

The place I struggle is knowing what is avoidable and what is not. I shoulder unnecessary pain by believing I have the power to eliminate another’s pain. Other people’s pain is for them to feel and cope with. My pain is for me to cope with. When I try and redirect another’s life (and feel pain doing so) in order for them to avoid pain I am disabling them to life-on-life’s terms. I am also giving myself a false sense of power over their destiny.

Avoidance, used appropriately, means I sidestep entanglement in something I ultimately have no power to change. I keep the focus off of the other person and I keep the focus on me. Where do I need to grow? Where can I change my perspective? What can I bring that will benefit this situation? Where do I need to keep my mouth closed?

#3 Endure

By default, most of us would rather avoid this one. However, when done with compassion and discipline it can actually eliminate some of the pain. When I say ‘endure’ I am not suggesting one suffer in silence. I am suggesting it be felt and dealt with for as long as it remains an issue. Endless, hopeless enduring of anything painful will break me. Daily managing will make me stronger.

Example: I am going through a big awareness of my daughter’s limitations as she developments. It has been the longest academic year of my life. I am charged by teachers, administrators, and professional opinions at every turn. I was completely unprepared to cope with this situation, yet it is here and I must deal with the pain it produces. So where I can, I Step-In to educate myself and make prudent decisions. I Avoid those people or opinions which do not serve the greater good, and I Endure my real/perceived failures, feelings, fears, short-comings, negative thoughts, doubts, unending question, anxiety, and tears.

I journal and let my pain speak to me, but I do not let it badger me. I journal and let my pain be heard, but I do not let it take over the whole conversation. I journal until there is no more to write, and I free myself from redundant thought … until a new thought arrives. And then I journal some more. And some days I need to put my pain into a pretend box on my desk and let it rest there a little while until I am ready to feel it again.

I feel the feelings fully, believing in the end that Love will win. How do I know Love will win? Because Love always wins.

I can find no moments in my past where my pain did not drive me forward to be something better, someone better, than I had previously been.

Pain no longer rules my day, only some moments—until I catch it.

Pain no longer ruins anything.

It is a thing to feel.

When I am done feeling it and it is done serving its purpose … I can move away.