May my suffering be of service.

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When the suffering is almost intolerable.
When you’ve had all you think you can take.
When you can’t comprehend what the “gift” in the pain might be.
When it’s not making any sense. When you’re asking, God, Life, WHY?

There’s this:

May my suffering be of service.

At the very least.

May some good come of this.

If not for me, for someone else.

Some good.

At the very least.

May my suffering be of service.

It’s a sublime Buddhist approach to pain. When you’re in hell, the notion that your agony might have some divine utility helps you endure. It’s a light ray of reason, a thread of meaning that you can grab onto in deep confusion.

Your suffering is of service. When you’re on the other side of the pain, your “I’ve-been-through-it-wisdom” is going to comfort someone else, perhaps many people, profoundly. And when you’re in the real time suffering, it's a contribution even then. You are burning energetic pathways. You’re clearing space, and rectifying, and learning -- you’re coming to know life more deeply. And that (very hard earned) power is fuelling collective expansion.

It’s a prayer, really:

May my suffering be of service. T W E E T


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