Saturday, May 26, 2012

The Shores Of My Insides

I have always been able to sense pain and suffering.  As a child I visioned it as a light that emanated from others bosoms and I was the beacon.  It was not something I saw so much as felt.

I wonder if I got that from my father.  The poor soul, he knew he would die young.  I, on the other hand, have always innately felt that I would die at an old age after witnessing the passing of all those I cared for.  It was not that I felt this a burden, it was just the load that I was uniquely built to carry.

As I've grown older, I've honed my skills.  Conversations with strangers end in tears as I am able to divine what they need from me.  My choice of career is fitting when seen through this lens.  But even in medicine, I have migrated away from the young and healthy and have landed square in the middle of illness and dying.

Sometimes I have delusions of grandeur.  I picture many like me have been placed among our populations.  We act like vessels accepting the pain and suffering that others must deposit.  Unlike those others, I am not destroyed by this sadness.  Conversely, it fills me up.  As the raging waves of the ocean crash against the shores of my insides, the waters eventually calm and the tide recedes.

And I am empty once again.

Like a banker without money, waiting for the next deposit. 

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