No way but through

I cried today over unknown feelings that I have no words for and no clear idea of what the emotion is about. This feeling seems to attack my sense of well being; there is a fleeting sense of despair and I grieve over very old hurts.

I question whether I am doing adequate work as a graduate student and I am made stupid in my questions. My friends at lunch suggest it is the “inside critic” and that I should ceremoniously place it in a jar and lid it tightly.

I am not so sure I should simply fend it away.

Is this the work of the centering prayer? Is this the stirring up of the unconscious that Father Thomas Keating says will arise of seeking the still point of the turning world? According to Keating “as one sits in centering prayer with the intent to rest in and trust in God, the unconscious begins to unload the emotional junk of a lifetime. Repressed memories, pain, accumulated dull hurt rise to the surface and are, through the attitudes of gentle consent, allowed to depart.”

Maybe so.

The feelings are one of smallness, of not mattering, of being crushed and ignored by some greater force. I grieve with this feeling, and it remains illusive. I feel inadequate to describe it, silenced in its presence and attempts to explore it make it even more illusive from my consciousness.

I read that the fruits of this unloading are more than worth the pain. In response to each significant descent into the ground of our woundedness, there is a parallel ascent in the form of inner freedom, the experience of the fruits of the spirit, and beatitude.

I breathe into its darkness and I make myself a student of its pain.

What else can I possibly do?