I struggle. I suffer. I suffer with struggling. I struggle with suffering.
And then I look up in the night the brighter stars are popping out, a crescent moon floats like a cradle. This vastness and here I am, small and insignificant suffering with I don't really know what. It's not a sense of doom, a knowing of mortality.
I suspect as a sensitive individual awash in a sea of suffering, I am many times swept under by the current. I bob up, gasp for a deep calming breath.
I affirm this over and over, that at this moment all is okay. The past has passed; the future never comes. The only moment is this one, here now. But knowing and deep, down in the gut, in the core of being "knowing" are very different. The getting there is never going to happen. It's the being here with whatever is is the practice. And, it IS a practice.
Invite the "I" to take a backseat sometimes, be gentle with self, laugh at self, be okay with what is because after all that is what is. (Be okay with how many times the word "is" is used in a sentence.)
...and maybe, just maybe, I may offer and accept service to others. After all, we are all in this together.