What is not fully felt will, sooner or later, rise again to be integrated.
The last few weeks have been a interesting learning experience for me. Residual emotions from more than thirteen years ago suddenly bubbled to the surface, as though everything had happened only yesterday. Along with the memories came a flood of emotions—love, hurt, anger, anxiety, and feelings of victimhood. At any random moment, one of these emotions would emerge and take center stage.
What I realized was that when those events transpired all those years ago, I was deeply uncomfortable with the pain they brought. Rather than allowing myself to fully feel what was present, I buried it within. I was not consciously aware of this until recently, when everything resurfaced with tremendous force.
I could run away from what is, but only for so long. Eventually, the chickens come home to roost.
We cannot distract our way out of discomfort. We cannot replace something within by acquiring something outside. What needs to be felt and met must be felt and met. Failing to do so pulls us back in time, sometimes many years, depending on how deeply the impressions were embedded. A part of us remains frozen in that moment, still believing it is happening now.
Peace began to emerge only when I was able to meet the discomfort directly.
Meeting discomfort does not mean replaying old stories, revisiting who did what, or determining who was right and who was wrong. That only deepens the suffering. True meeting is simply being present with the raw emotion as it arises. In that moment, we become aware of what is here, without resistance.
Our loving presence is what frees that wounded part from the pain it has been carrying for so long.
That part of us does not need anything to change. It does not need solutions, explanations, or justice. All it truly needs is our loving presence.
We are invited to soften toward everything that arises, even discomfort. It is this softening that transforms suffering. To do so requires both courage and patience.
The recognition of who I truly am helps me meet these emotions with greater compassion. The more I rest in loving presence, the more space is created for old impressions to surface, be seen, and finally dissolve.
When the chickens come home to roost, meet them with loving presence.
May we all dwell in this loving presence.
May we become spacious enough to lovingly accommodate whatever arises.
Love and Light,
Varun
