In Choosing Suffering
ServiceSpace
--Roshni Shah
6 minute read
Oct 23, 2015

 

"In any given moment we have two options: to step forward into growth or to step back into safety"-Abraham Maslow

Last month we shared this passage at Awakin. ​Very few things leave me speechless, but it was so difficult for me to listen to, at that exact moment, that I deliberately asked to pass on my usual duties of opening the circle.
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It was right around the time ​this line was read, "The boy chose safety, the man chooses suffering" that my carefully guarded tears crept up quite quickly​,mainly because I have long discovered that​ my greatest fears are associated with the prospect of losing my most tangible attachments; the love I have for my family (including my beloved doggy) and friends. Ironically, I am not at all scared of my own death, but I am so afraid of the heart-wrenching pain loss creates.

Exactly 10 years ago,when I was a freshman in college, I spent the first few days of school at the hospital with my cousin as we said goodbye to his mom. After a decade of fighting her body, she was done fighting. She was ready to go. My parents were in India then and it was my first time watching death happen. It was surreal and I don't think I ever quite understood that experience. To be honest, I still don't. 

As a nurse, you quickly learn to understand that death is inevitable, but you also recognize that the notion of dying itself is such a minuscule component of one's entire life. As Goenka would say,
​death is the only universal truth. That every moment is death, a step closer to completion, a finality that we have to accept. Morbid, maybe, but I can't argue this truth. Death is a common denominator that connects us all. I know that my patients lead such full lives outside of the four walls of the hospital. You think this would make accepting the impossibility of forever easier, it doesn't. 

When I moved to India in 2012, it was inspired by my desire to live and experience the place my parents admiringly called home. My parents have always been the foundation I grounded myself in,I suppose part of me felt that in understanding where they came from, I would understand myself so much better. While the journey did not unfold as planned, the lessons were endless. When I first landed in India, part anxious/part brave, 25 years after my initial visit, I was greeted by my maternal Aunt. Instantaneously, just seeing and hugging her, every worry washed away.It was my first lesson in trust. In the months I spent with her, patiently observing the nuances of life in India and listening to her version of the stories I had repeatedly heard as a child, I gained so much more insight into who my mother was long before she became "mummy" to me. India was endless lessons in love. 

Later, when I moved to Ahmedabad and started work, I would spend my lunch hours with my boss (hi Neil!) â€‹and his grandmother​ (the real boss)​. In these hours of conversation, of rediscovering who I was as I was introducing myself to a stranger, I learned what I was so deeply afraid of. Loss. ​Another lesson. ​And as Awakin always does, I remember early on meeting Nipun, Pavi and Guri at Madhu & Meghna's house and we discussed the fear around the death of our parents. I never knew how deep this anxiety was rooted within me. So I spent a year learning how to be whole without anyone else and lived the lesson of honoring my own path.I truly believed I was returning home to the States a stronger, more resilient, self-assured, can-take-​on anything person. But then,within 24 hours of landing, my mom had an emergency and ended up in the  ICU for weeks, on the brink of dying. I immediately reverted to panic. Every lesson I had so excitedly hoped to share seemed to be washed away in fear.

​The past few weeks have been hard. My mom's health is deteriorating and I have so little control of the future. There are moments, many, where I am flooded with tears and anxiety. My mind races with so many fears. What am I doing wasting time taking care of other people when I couldn't take care of my own mom? Why â€‹is life unfair? Why did this have to happen now? I am not ready to live a life without my biggest confidant/cheerleader. How would I be able to raise my future children without her? Who would I be without mom? These thoughts made me want to close up and stay inside. To stay safe. To keep my guard up.To choose "suffering". ​

On Wednesday night, I held the hand of one of my closest friends in the same room I was in 10 years ago. Her father is fighting for his life. He lost consciousness for just a minute too long and the nurse in me already knew the outcome before she told me anything. And every lesson returned. Lessons in hope. In love. In honoring life as it is meant to be lived. As I stand here and support her, I somehow am finding so much understanding in my own process. 

I always thought it sounded more glamorous to look fear in the face or tell people to "face their fears" but I am realizing â€‹now ​ how â€‹much ego
is attached to that. It's far harder to accept suffering. To choose a path that you know will one day hurt, will cause you moments of pain---but ​it is ​in those deep, dark spaces where you will discover so much growth. That to accept joy and love, we have to also embrace disappointment and suffering.
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​One of Nimo's songs quotes, "gratitude and suffering cannot coexist"--
​and it is so true. I am so lucky to have such an amazing mother, to learn from her and experience who she is on so many levels. To have had her in my life this long already. So much of who I am is her that her legacy of selfless love is a gift I am able to continue to share with others. I choose to continue to celebrate her life, and that means I have to continue to live mine. On bad days and good ones, ​I choose to live completely and love unabashedly despite knowing that one day, this will make me suffer. I choose suffering over and over because life doesn't happen in safety.

Luckily, Idon't have to charge through this alone. Lessons in gratitude, in hope and in faith carry me in the dark moments. I have so much love surrounding me and creating a new foundation for me to grow from. The lessons are not forgotten, they continue to evolve and find me in surprising moments. And while it doesn't always make sense, I am grateful for these moments of clarity. I call these moments "mom" moments, and it brings a smile to my face every time. 

​This is a rather personal share, and perhaps not very cohesive, but wanted to share with the service space family  as a reminder to stay present to the moment. To live with intention and love deeply. To not be afraid of "suffering." 

With love. 
 

 

Posted by Roshni Shah on Oct 23, 2015


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