Today, as I recover from gum surgery, I found myself thinking for the first time about the colour of pain. I think I would have viewed mental pain as being black and physical pain as red.
But this evening, as the sun was going down, I took a tiny stroll in the garden and was captivated by the way in which the light was playing with the withering pink hydrangeas that live just inside our gate.
Withering, like pain, has very negative connotations but I glimpsed a beauty in the very heart of the withering and it was like a wave of soothing balm.
My pain is nothing compared to what so many people have to endure and I can’t but think of the soldiers in World War One as well as those in all the horrible, horrible wars before and since. How have they coped with what seems beyond endurable pain?
The resilience of humankind is extraordinary and I don’t think anyone will ever fully understand it.
That moment with the mingling of green and pink with a sliver of gold among the hydrangeas, however, made me think that hope, just the softest glimmer of hope, may well lie at the core of human courage and resistance.
Tonight, I send these soft colours of hope to everyone in the world who is battling pain, especially pain that is chronic and has been grinding away for years.