The Art of Human Vulnerability (Patreon)

How often do you think about the fact that you could have none of what you currently have?

At the very beginning of my illness, when the muscle pain first started, everyone said it was psychosomatic, and I began seeing psychologists. Every time, they would ask me the same question: Why do you think you’re experiencing this pain? At the time, I thought it was a strange question. Eventually, one of the psychologists concluded that I was taking on too much—family problems, my own issues, and I was constantly worrying about the problems of humanity as a whole. The thought that I couldn’t save the world no matter how hard I tried weighed on me, and they suggested my muscles were in constant pain because of this tension.

Later, as my illness progressed, various coaches, spiritual mentors, and others would ask me the same kind of question: What do you think this illness is giving you? I would respond: How could it give me anything when all it does is take away?

Only years later did I find the answer. It didn’t come quickly or like a lightning bolt of insight. It was a long and painful journey. But now, I know and feel clearly that this pain has shaped me into who I am. This pain taught me inner acceptance. It taught me to see and find happiness in the smallest of things. It taught me to genuinely give thanks for what I have instead of lamenting what I’ve lost. My mind feels as though it has been reset, and I’ve started to see and perceive the world around me—and myself—in a new way.

I think far less now about what I don’t have and much more about what I do. I feel life with an intensity I never have before, as if the veil of human patterns and societal norms that we’ve been taught since birth has lifted. I feel like a clean vessel, but this time, I get to choose what fills it with.

This experience is impossible to fully put into words. I can only try, but the spark of something utterly pure and new that was kindled within me at the start of this painful journey can’t be described. It can only be shared on a deeply emotional level. And I feel this spark growing brighter and brighter, making me stronger, wiser, and giving me a sense of flight and detachment from my body when I need it. It’s truly a magical experience, and I am endlessly grateful to the Universe for it.

So, this isn’t a punishment, nor a misfortune, nor the world’s unfairness—it’s a gift for those ready to be reborn into something entirely new. And I am yet to discover where this path will lead me next.