PAIN & PURPOSE

I assume everyone has a philosophy on pain and whatever purpose assigned to it. This will be a constant conversation with humanity due to its inevitability. Some find pain to be useless and in turn question the creator. "If there is a God, then why do we suffer?" Which invites the Epicurean paradox. This question, I believe I will never truly find the answer to, and perhaps, there is wisdom in that acceptance. Pain reminds us that we are alive, regardless of how brutal it is on the soul. Many times, it remains an open wound no matter how much balm that’s been put on it. A lesson in strength and resilience? Maybe that we are limited in the things that we can control. We all suffer differently, but there is a collective understanding of the feeling it confers. Pain has always been a repetitive visitor in my life. I am unsure if visitor is an accurate description, but severally, I have known the taste of my tears intimately. Kissing it with my lips as it strolled quietly down my cheeks, becoming a recipe for my waking days. Numbness snuck in, leaving the door ajar for whatever else. I have gathered strength like a yearly harvest, putting it together to create a spine, else I slipped into the dark, into myself, on my tears that spilled to the grounds. Pain comes in to inspect my happiness, as if it were an officer, sent to keep me in check. An attempt to remind me that perhaps my smiles must be earned, yet, I have been defiant against that notion. As heavy as its presence feels, I maintain control over the curve of my lips no matter how pretentious. I wear contentment elegantly, painting a portrait within many portraits. Some find pain to be an important part of our mortality, and I happen to be one of those. Even when I sought the face of the divine and was met with echoes of my own screams, I still find purpose in the ripple. Many times you must toil, and constantly too, to find contentment. This changes with phases, so you must make pain an ally. Not out of love, but out of necessity. Without it, the meanings to happiness is lost and you would have toiled for nothing. Life is a constant toiling, and pain is a tool that digs gems we must find. On the inside, it is a lot, but for some, they only find rot.

— Tolú