Belly of the Beast

How much of your ugly pain can you accept? The pain that seems petty, jealous, inept, immature. All of it? The pain that is so many pains tied together in a sticky seemingly unresolvable knot. How much of your feeling of lack can you accept when you know you “should” feel, “should” be, grateful for the abundance of your life though it seems out-of-reach? How much disconnection from this gratitude? How much slithering want, desire, neediness, hurt, grief? All of it? How is it possible to accept the huge or the unaccountably heavy and seemingly small but insidious suffering? How to love yourself in the face of your inability to change, shift, release in this moment?