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No more suffering alone. A single "warm encounter" can heal your life and bring joy to your life.
Category
- Meditation
Created by
- Lumen
One day, a quiet ripple rippled through my mind. I received an invitation to a gathering I'd longed to attend, but hadn't held much anticipation for. It felt like a signal something inside me had been waiting for. Despite the people I hadn't yet met, and the space I hadn't yet set foot in, the gathering already resonated warmly within me. Like sunlight seeping into a closed room, or the fragrance of flowers blooming for the first time after a long winter, an inexplicable positivity welled up in my chest.
I know that hope often seeps through the smallest of cracks. Joy often blossoms from the most humble beginnings. I had a gut feeling that this gathering would become that kind of crack for me.
I was once immersed in a swamp of deep pain. Anxiety strangled my breathing, and lethargy weighed heavily on my body. Loneliness wrapped its cold hands around my shoulders, and comparison and deprivation followed me like endless shadows. The world flowed by indifferently, while I felt as if time stood still. In those days, I felt like a child lost in the darkness, devoid of light. But just as a mother embraces a child when she bursts into tears, so too did the self within me, the self within my heart, embrace me.
That embrace wasn't a word, nor was it logic. It was simply a feeling of longing, a sense of compassion. I don't resent the pain I've endured. It's because of it that I am who I am today, and because of the warmth I've pulled from that deep swamp, I can now share that warmth with others.
Now, I want to be a witness of hope. The despair I've experienced is no longer my own. I know it was part of a long journey toward joy. Those who have crossed the swamp can sit by the river and reach out to others. I want to be that hand. I want to whisper in their ears, "You are not alone, and even in your darkness, there is light." That light isn't grand. It's just a gentle pat on the shoulder, a gaze that lingers on a weary heart, or a soft, resonating voice of comfort. But I've come to understand that it's these small things that can be the miracles that save lives.
My heart races at the thought of that imminent gathering. We haven't yet shared any conversations or formed any connections, but I already believe a spark of hope will be ignited there. It's a premonition, a whisper of spiritual intuition. People don't simply come together by chance. Just as stars shine in their respective places, forming constellations, so too is there an invisible providence hidden in human encounters. In the place I walk into, I might encounter another version of myself. And in that encounter, joy will blossom like a flower.
I dream. That the conversations at that gathering don't remain mere exchanges of words. That they become beacons that illuminate each other's darkness. That the wounds of life are soothed by each other's hands. I see myself smiling there. And I picture that same smile spreading across the faces of those sitting before me. It's a silent hymn, a silent poem.
Hope shines brighter when shared than when held alone. Joy deepens when shared, not when confined to one's own heart. I now want to share the grace and light of life I've received, the warmth I've learned along the dark path I've walked. This feels like a new calling in my life.
I am no longer trapped in the swamp of the past. My feet are firmly planted on solid ground, and my eyes gaze upon the light approaching from afar. That light will flow through me to others. The moment I enter the gathering, it will feel more than a simple step, but a ritual. Seeds of hope will be sown, flowers of joy will bloom, and our lives will gently connect in each other's breath.
I hope that everyone I meet will feel, even for a moment, a light in the silence. May they discover the warm possibility that still lives and breathes in their suffering. And may that possibility grow into hope, ultimately filling the world with a song of joy.
Now I am ready. The gathering hasn't yet begun, but a gentle festival is already brewing within me. It is the joy of the present, embracing the past, and the hope that opens toward the future. Following that light, I walk.
