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The traits we revile in others are often the ones that remind us most of our worst selves. And we react most strongly to the faults and flaws we see in others that we are most ashamed of in ourselves.
He died anyway that night, before we could arrange anything. He died before he was ready, before he had decided not to have us attempt resuscitation. And his ribs broke, and his blood soaked our shoes. And as I told his family I prayed they wouldn’t look down. That they wouldn’t notice my shoes were squeaking, as if I’d just walked in from a winter storm.
Our greatest gift is, in fact, our ability to be absolutely present with suffering. To allow it to transform us, and, by holding the suffering of others, transform it for them as well.
