Journey of Tears (#141, Give Birth to a Dancing Star)

Is there life without pain? Or is it the pulse that keeps us whole, the fire that 
burns, the thorn that pricks the soul? Can we walk through fields of joy 
without the shadow of suffering casting long, eternal footprints on the land 
of our hearts?

Where do we wander when the weight of the world pushes down upon us, 
and there is no place left to go? When the mountains rise too steep, and the 
rivers run too deep— do we wander into the night, lost to ourselves and to 
the stars? Do we take our pain and wrap it tight around our chest, wear it like 
a cloak, until we forget the warmth of sunlight?
 
What is the purpose of tears— these silent rivers that never lie, that carve 
paths down our faces, marking where the sorrow has flowed? are they simply 
the body’s way of telling us we’ve loved too much, we’ve lived too deeply, that 
the soul has bled too freely for its own good?

Tears are the sacred language of those who carry the weight of truth, too 
heavy for the tongue to speak, too deep for the heart to keep. Each drop a 
message— a prayer sent out to the heavens, a scream to the abyss, a confession 
whispered to the wind. Tears are the quiet song of all that we cannot bear yet 
cannot bury. They wash the eyes so that we may see and cleanse the soul so 
that we may be free.

But where do they lead us, these tears we shed in the dark, when we have 
given all we have and still, the ache persists? Where do we turn when there is 
nothing left to hold but the rawness of our need and the silence of our fear?
 it is in these moments, in the weight of our loneliness, that we must learn to 
speak, not to the world, but to those who love us. To them, we say, I am here, 
and though i am broken, though i am lost, i still carry the light of your love 
in the depths of my heart.

Tell it to those who love you— those whose hands are reaching out, even 
when the world feels too dark to see. Tell them that your pain is not an end, 
but a beginning, a way to touch something sacred, something real, beyond 
the boundaries of flesh and time. Tell them that in the brokenness, you are 
whole, and that in the suffering, you have found your strength.

For there is no place left to go except the quiet places within, where the pain 
becomes a memory and the tears a river of peace. There, we wander not to 
escape, but to find the truth that waits, waiting in silence, waiting in the love 
we have so long denied.

And in the end, can life be without pain? perhaps not. But there is life, and 
that is enough. it is enough to wander, to cry, to stumble, to stand again, and 
to love in the brokenness.