There is nothing done to us. There is nothing taken, nothing broken, nothing stained. What happens, no matter how sad or painful, is just the color, the motif of this moment in life. The moment has its purpose, what long ago we agreed to, what we needed to fully use our days.
There is nothing done to us that wasn’t necessary for the lesson we came to learn. The life we had planned or wanted is no more than a source of necessary disappointment. The love we expected, looked for, becomes no more than a turn down some empty road, weeds and branches choking the way.
In the darkness, the place where we never thought we’d arrive comes like a sudden warning, like a dog barking in a lonely farmyard. The place feels wrong, as if we were the victim of something. But despite its strangeness, it was our own plan. It is what we needed to know, to feel, to embrace.