i liked this poem...thought i'd share, b/c i have woken up with sorrow many days, as i'm sure you have. either sorrow or anxiety, or sometimes a fun combo!

Before you know what kindness really is
you must lose things,
feel the future dissolve in a moment
like salt in a weakened broth.

What you held in your hand,
what you counted and carefully saved,
all this must go so you know
how desolate the landscape can be
between the regions of kindness.

How you ride and ride
thinking the bus will never stop,
the passengers eating maize and chicken
will stare out the window forever.

Before you learn the tender gravity of kindness,
you must travel where the Indian in a white poncho
lies dead by the side of the road.

You must see how this could be you,
how he too was someone
who journeyed through the night with plans
and the simple breath that kept him alive.

Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside,
you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing.
You must wake up with sorrow.
You must speak to it till your voice
catches the thread of all sorrows
and you see the size of the cloth.

Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore,
only kindness that ties your shoes
and sends you out into the day to mail letters and purchase bread,
only kindness that raises its head
from the crowd of the world to say
it is I you have been looking for,
and then goes with you everywhere
like a shadow or a friend.

Naomi Shihab Nye

I lost enough when my father died 33 years ago lol. I didn't want anymore lessons. but I will really cherish good times from now on and think of them in the context of the bad times that have been. it will make things that much better

I am SO DONE with life lessons too. I like the part about catching the thread of sorrow...like my sorrow is just another thread on the cloth where your sorrows thread is...we're not alone

"I lost enough when my father died 33 years ago lol." I am appalled that mention of a father's death can be followed by "lol"

Can we all agree to turn off the LOL switch ?

btw, I completely disagree with the sentiments presented in the poem.

it is a pretty poem. and I will appreciate things more.

although we cant feel each other's physical pain we can relate, that's for sure and we can share the mental hardships and get each other through the hard times. this board is my lifeline to sanity.

it's just a nervous online twitch. I will do my best to stop using it. and yes it was a horrifying event that probably altered the rest of my life for the worst. so it does not deserve on lol. Nothing funny about being 13 with a dead father and a mother in a psych ward *edit* I stand corrected.

I think it's important to remember here that we all differ in what we find comforting and helpful - and we don't know each others' life experiences.

I assume the poem was posted with good intentions, and I hope some liked it, but no, my dead babies weren't a lesson of any kind. I know more than I care to about waking up with sorrow. Leave my grief alone.

I've been finding it difficult to think about what I can learn or how I can grow from experiencing the suffering that goes along with PCS, as it always seems like it's easier to think about these kinds of things with the advantage of hindsight rather than being in the thick of it. I've been lucky to have not experienced real, profound suffering and feelings of despair and hopelessness until dealing with PCS, and I do think that, given I get out of this with my wits about me, I'll have learned more about what it means to be human. Hopefully this will translate into being a kinder, more generous person (not that I wasn't before!).

I can say with certainty that once I'm able to go on a 10 mile run, or read for hours without a problem, or just to feel like myself for a day without this dark cloud over my head all the time I'll appreciate it more deeply than I had before. I generally took pleasure in most of what I did before this whole ordeal, but knowing what it's like to feel like you might never get any of that back will make experiencing the small little joys of life that much sweeter. I try to do this even now, and am somewhat successful, but I just can't shake the cloud that adds a darkness to everything.

i think the poem probably applies better to those who are going to get much better or and recover what they've lost. I know I don't fit into either of these categories until and unless more modern treatment comes out

I've been through so many "life lessons" it's unreal, if one more person tells me "Well, these things are sent to us a lesson" I'll scream, I'm all out of lessons, how about something good happening.

Just broke my ankle on Monday night falling down some steps while have a dizzy spell, not depressed about it though or upset, I'll deal with it and survive

I can see how someone would like the poem and that's absolutely fine but I just don't agree with what's being said, that's just me though, I can know I don't agree with it but don't ask me to explain as I can't out it in to words!!

If it helps someone though that's great.