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  • ivanildotrindade 1:42 pm on April 20, 2012 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: dealing with pain, pain, Pain Management, what is pain   



    There is pain so real you can die and still feel it

    Pain stamped by rejection

    Fueled by scorn

    Accented by indifference

    Perfected by injustice

    Pain that comes from being…

    And from being what others do not desire


    There is pain for every thought, every step, every creative interchange

    Pain that lodges itself in the conscience, closing doors that invite the sun in

    Pain knows no limits, asks no permission, seeks no reward

    The scourge of pain is its familiarity

    Pain wins when it is no longer rare


    Show me a man this side of life who can cure all pain

    And I will show you a villain

    For one who destroys all that is unpleasant

    Will also with it bring an end to struggle


    For there is struggle as old as the world

    And struggle as deep as the thoughts of men

    Struggle that harpoons the heart and

    Guillotines the mind

    Struggle is pain dressed in Sunday’s clothes

    Without it we simply go on living

    If we are lucky at all


    Ivanildo C. Trindade

    • Julie 1:47 pm on April 20, 2012 Permalink | Reply

      Where’s that “Love” button. Thank you for addressing pain in such a short, simple, beautiful and poignant way. I feel gratitude when someone or something gently surfaces my pain. Feel, shed tears, feel some more, express and move on. This poem shines a wise light on a natural part of light. Thank you.

      • ivanildotrindade 10:32 pm on April 30, 2012 Permalink | Reply

        thank u, julie. this poem was written for a friend who battles severe pain every awaken moment. natural part of life, right on, more natural for some than for others. but common to all. i will get on that reblog link. some reason your comments ended up on the spam folder. sorry. wordpress is my protector, i shall not want.

    • Julie 1:49 pm on April 20, 2012 Permalink | Reply

      Beautiful. Gorgeous. Real. Our buddy, pain. Thank you for sharing such a wonderful poem — and surfacing tears. It makes me think how grateful I am that my relationship with pain is shifting.

    • Julie 9:33 am on May 1, 2012 Permalink | Reply

      Thanks for your response. Gave me another opportunity to revisit the poem. I believe we talk too little about pain, which often aids in keeping it buried. It’s as though we’re ashamed of it. Ashamed of a human condition. I’m very sorry for your friend. My severe pain has been emotional. I can only imagine it in physical form — and the strength that that battle must require. I appreciate very much the topics you cover and the heart and soul you cover them with.

      • ivanildotrindade 9:56 am on May 1, 2012 Permalink | Reply

        thanks,julie. Sorry about your pain, but I trust u have become stronger as a result of it. But I know from experience that it is not as simple as that. There is no simple formula, it is just living day by day by the grace of God, stepping into our fears, and not letting them control our agenda. Blessings.

    • Julie 5:13 pm on May 1, 2012 Permalink | Reply

      Yes, I have and am grateful for the pain. The grace of God: yes. Stepping into our fears: must do that more.

      • ivanildotrindade 6:06 pm on May 1, 2012 Permalink | Reply

        me too. stepping into our fears is like feeding our bodies — we have 2 do it again and again. but when we do it, we see that fear is a bully, a usurper. God’s best 4 u. i am always fascinated with the words of Jesus when he said that he came to give us life and life to the full.. in other words, not just half-lived, half-enjoyed, hurried up and do the next thing kind of life. it’s fully engaged and living. i guess that is the real meaning of an extravagant life (not in the material sense) and i strive to live that way.

    • Julie 8:46 am on May 2, 2012 Permalink | Reply

      I really like your explanation of what Jesus said. Never pondered on that one. Thought about it, but just couldn’t grasp it. “Extravagant life” — very nice. I think that I will now focus on an extravagant life — lived fully-engaged — and making a habit of multi-daily stepping into fears. It could make all the different. And “stepping into our fears is like feeding our bodies” — that’s really deep. Will take me some processing to digest ( 🙂 ) that one. To let that thought develop into a core belief could be really powerful.

      • ivanildotrindade 9:23 am on May 2, 2012 Permalink | Reply

        hey julie, the comment about feeding our bodies was not meant to be “deep.” sorry. i only wanted to say that just like with our bodies, we don’t feed them once for all (we get hungry again!), so with our fears — they return and we deal with them again. there is no magic pill, only the certainty that they don’t have to rule us, just like hunger doesn’t (or shouldn’t). so u don’t need to chew on that one for much longer… unfortunately, there r 2 many people in this world 4 whom hunger is an all-consuming thing — my metaphor wouldn’t work with them.

    • Julie 1:32 pm on May 3, 2012 Permalink | Reply

      Deep is good. My profession is nutrition, so your metaphor hit the spot (hee hee).

      • ivanildotrindade 3:02 pm on May 3, 2012 Permalink | Reply

        glad 2 hear. i have read some of your writing. keep it up. the one about cyber clutter, though… not ready 2 go there yet!

    • paultheservant 9:56 am on June 17, 2012 Permalink | Reply

      Pain endured makes one stronger. Pain endured makes one more beautiful. Pain is a gift a God is disguise.

      • ivanildotrindade 10:51 am on June 17, 2012 Permalink | Reply

        thanks for your comment on my post about pain. yes, pain is often a gift from God, even if it is one we don’t wish to have at first. God builds character in us through pain.

  • ivanildotrindade 9:18 pm on April 3, 2012 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: avoiding conflicts, couples who hoarder, dirty closets, emotional hoarders, fleeing reality, Hoarder, , pain   

    Emotional Hoarders 

    Married couples have learned to hoard, sometimes literally, but more often metaphorically. They hoard emotions, they hoard hurts, they hoard disappointments, rejections, the list goes on and on.

    There are big hoarders and small hoarders. I once entered the home of a widow who lived next to us in California. I say “entered” somewhat euphemistically. It’s more like my groping hands led me into a little space in her kitchen  where a leaky pipe was located. There were walls of newspapers and magazines on either side, making it looking like a corn maze and the smell of cavernous hallways was intense. There were objects piled up all over the livable space and the air was so thick I could swear it was being hoarded as well. Now that’s what I call a big hoarder.

    Small hoarders, on the other hand, only keep things in one room in the house. Maybe it used to be the bedroom of one of their kids who went to college, an old closet, or maybe even an attic. If you visited their house, you would have no clue that there is a messy room somewhere because everything looks so clean and good. The chaos is a dark secret, they keep it only between them, and they only go there to dump more stuff, and when it is full, they may even put a lock there and avoid going there at all costs.

    Couples who are big time hoarders leave everything on the floor. Like the big hoarders in the reality show, there is little hope for them. I can’t even begin to think about helping big time hoarders. But I have something to say to small hoarders.

    You also may have a closet with locks when it comes to your emotional life. You only go there when it is absolutely necessary. You keep shoving things there and keep it secure with a lock. You don’t want to go in because it is too painful.

    So when the wife is tempted thinks about how the husband didn’t take her side when his mother attacked her ten Thanksgivings ago, she quickly shoves that into the closet. When the husband feels lonely and wants a little more loving, he immediately retreats, knowing full well that the subject might just aggravate his wife’s headache.

    The hoarding closet, then, becomes a form of escapism, a flight from reality, a detour from disruption, but what you don’t realize is that same closet is nothing more than a postponement of “judgement day.” Some day, the hurts and resentments will erupt like a volcano and by then it might be too late to stop it.

    That’s why couple who are emotional hoarders need to open the closet. Slowly at first, but surely. A good start is to eliminate from your vocabulary expressions such as “don’t even go there,” “I don’t want to talk about it,” “You know what will happen if we start talking about this,” “There you go again,” etc., etc.

    Here is a simple technique: instead of going to the “closet” go to the “cave.” A “cave” is a safe space you need to put between you and the painful issue you may be discussing. If the argument is heating up or is bringing the worse in you, just say, “I need to go into the cave.” At that moment a “truce” is declared, the weapons come down and there is a pause, which, by the way, men, does not mean “there will be sex.”)

    Men, especially, need to learn to give their spouses some space. However, you cannot go into the “cave” forever. The “cave” is a respite not a destination. It is not another closet. The “cave” gives you time to calm down and think about what you want to say. After a couple of days (you will have to determine how many), if the spouse is still in the “cave,” you need to call her/him out. Actually “draw her out” is probably a better expression.

    When the talk resumes, you will need to learn to re-state. Instead of “How can you say that?” what about, “Can you clarify what you really mean by that?” Or “do I understand that you are saying thus and so?” Listen, re-state, and state your point without attacking the other person. If you do that consistently, you will find yourself without a dirty closet sooner than what you think.

    Ivanildo C. Trindade

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