Bitterness

"Sorrow on another's face often looks like coldness, bitterness, resentment, unfriendliness, apathy, disdain, or disinterest when it is, in truth, purely sadness."  -R. E. Goodrich

My brother died a bitter, sorrowful man.  It had not occurred to me until I came across the quote above  that bitterness and sorrow are one and the same.  He held tight to his bitterness, like a drowning man to a buoy, as if  it was the only thing keeping him alive.  I know he thought it was.  In fact, that buoy was not his savior-it only prolonged his demise.  Disdain and resentment were his bedfellows, too, for they allowed him to build walls that kept him isolated and alone, walls that shielded him from truths he could not bear to see. To see might require that he take action to change-I believe the mere thought of that terrified him.  His death was a lonely one; a sad man isolated behind a locked door and drawn curtains, incapable of letting go of his bitterness because to do so would require change-something he was unwilling or unable to undertake.  I often wonder what his life might have been like had he been able and willing to tear those walls down.

When I am faced with bitterness now, I try to see it in a different light.  I realize it is the mask behind which a deep sorrow lies, so deep that the one in which it resides may not even be aware.  I am painfully aware that walls built to keep others out can only be torn down by those that built them; few are willing to undertake such a daunting task.  To do so might require a change in thinking and a willingness to be vulnerable-things I know cause most people to cringe.

I have on occasion, been caught off guard by bitterness, and my default reaction is to tilt at windmills,  to attempt to tear down walls, to rail at bitterness in an effort to break through.  However, I am slowly but surely coming to the realization that to attempt the above is not only not my job, it is an exercise in futility.  If someone clutches tightly to what they believe is essential to their very survival,  it is not within my power to unfurl their fingers one by one.

What is within my power is to allow each person to walk his own path without unwanted intervention or interference from me. I can bear witness to their sorrow without having the illusion that I possess any power to change it.  In remembering that, and continuing to practice, and I do mean practice that, maybe someday my default when faced with bitterness will become one of love and tolerance.