"On The Other Side of Pain Is Ecstasy"

I had a really productive weekend. It was nice to feel good enough to work in the house and even helped Mindi because she and Dave were busy with football and volleyball tournaments all day Saturday. Even today for a Monday hasn't been that bad, so hopefully now that the weather is cooling off, I can get all my projects done and get ready for the holidays. Today is my third oldest granddaughter Kylie's birthday. Man it's making me feel old that all these kids are growing up. Soon I will have one driving and that's scaring the beezeebees out of me. A couple of weeks ago Spencer had me download a book for me to read that he thinks is good. It's called "The Untethered Soul," by Michael A. Singer. Spencer is probably my most intellectual child and because of his work he has time to read. It seems like lately almost everything that comes my way is about changing the way we think and feel. The chapter I read today is all about the pain we feel in our heart. We all have had experiences in life that has caused us pain and it's how we deal with this pain that makes the kind of life we live. He says, "If you want to be free, you must first accept that there is pain in your heart. You have stored it there. And you've done everything you can think of to keep it there, deep inside, so that you never have to feel it. There is also tremendous joy, beauty, love, and peace within you. But they are on the other side of pain. On the other side of the pain is ecstasy. On the other side is freedom. Your true greatness hides on the other side of that layer of pain. You must be willing to accept pain in order to pass through to the other side." Then he goes on to tell you how to relax and let the pain go through you. I never thought at sixty years old I would be reading books about Yoga and deep breathing and letting go of the pain, but at this age I'm up for just about anything. Except for getting in a plane or driving a car or, on and on. I don't know if there is any hope for me, but I will continue to read until something touches me deep enough to give up my fears, or hopefully go to the other side.