On Pain

And a woman spoke, saying, Tell us

of Pain.

And he said:

Your pain is the breaking of the shell

that encloses your understanding.

Even as the stone of the fruit must

break, that its heart may stand in the

sun, so must you know pain.

And could you keep your heart in wonder

at the daily miracles of your life, your

pain would not seem less wondrous than

your joy;

And you would accept the seasons of your

heart, even as you have always accepted

the seasons that pass over your fields.

And you would watch with serenity

through the winters of your grief.

Much of your pain is self-chosen.

It is the bitter potion by which the

physician within you heals your sick

self.

Therefore trust the physician, and drink

his remedy in silence and tranquillity:

For his hand, though heavy and hard, is

guided by the tender hand of the Unseen,

And the cup he brings, though it burn

your lips, has been fashioned of the

clay which the Potter has moistened with

His own sacred tears.