Many of my friends are sad right now. Some have lost someone they love. Some are overwhelmed with financial issues. Some have lost faith. Some have lost love. Some are scared about health issues. Some are missing friends and loved ones far away. Some feel far from home.
“Here?” He touches me lightly just where the bottom of my sternum dives down between my ribs. Holy. My face contorts to a sob like someone pulled shut the drawstring of a purse. “Ah,” he says softly. He pulls his hand away. “Take a breath.”
I take a breath. I talk to myself like I talk to the beginning yoga students in my Wednesday night class. Breath in: let the heart be lifted. The very tip of the needle feels like a flaming arrow hitting bullseye. I sob, out loud this time. He pulls back. Touches again with the pad of his fingertip. It feels so deep, this hole, a fontanelle above my heart.
Sometimes the sadness of others sucks me into a deep hole. Sometimes the sadness of others makes me shake my fist at God. Sometimes the sadness of others fills my heart. Sometimes the sadness of others makes me want to curl up in a ball. Sometimes the sadness of others spurs me to action.
Today, as I felt that deep sob that Grace described, I realized that the sadness of others is mingled with the sadness of my own, and I cannot tell the difference.
For you, I pray for peace. For you, I pray for comfort. For you, I pray for quiet. For you, I pray for strength. For me, I pray the same. Amen.