Name the Pain.
Weighed against “real” suffering, like systemic racism, or abuse, or war, our everyday losses might seem too silly to mention or even feel. Our minds know suffering is not a contest, but our actions prove otherwise. So we hobble around, trying to ignore the swelling – the soft anguish of growing children who need us less, old regrets that cannot be undone, the ache of fading friendships, the too-quiet nest, the faltering faith, the strain of aging, the looming sense that our society is catastrophically unwell.
Grief is grief. Its intensity and duration might differ, but the DNA is the same. We can’t counterweight what we avoid or minimize. Our only way through is to feel its full weight without judgment. Naming the pain is our prescription for healing. Embodying it is even better.
— Shannan Martin, Counterweights, p. 33









