The uncomfortable confines.

Pain is so often confined, locked and left in the box of 'too hard'... what if that box stole more than it gave?

Walking the streets of London was magical. It was beautiful, it was filled with history, character, and it took me to another place literally and figuratively.

I saw cathedrals, palaces and sights that were famous for good reason.

History, such history was in my midst.

Turning down a street that pitchforked onto Birdcage Lane, I was delighted! Before me was a line of mounted horsemen and guards. They were preparing for the Queen's Grand Jubilee.

All in line, canons drawn on carriages, preparations were well underway.

They started.

Line after line in perfect synchronicity.

A mounted band played.

Not a note was out of place.

The mounted troops followed in step.

Stallions tossed their heads in anticipation.

Perfection.

What a stately demonstration of power and majesty.

The grandeur of the show filled me with such a sense of wonder, of awe. It made me think,

What pain, what price and sacrifice was paid for such a perfect display?

Was it worth it?

Well, it was enough for this singing jillaroo to want to join in! I wanted to share in the splendour, I wanted to ride and play with the royal troops!

With the parade preparations coming to a close, there was still so much in London to see. I let my feet take me wherever they willed. They stopped at Westminster Abbey. What a sight. Then Buckingham Palace - another delight! Kensington Palace didn’t disappoint with the display of Diana's Memorial, it was simply stunning.

Looking closer at each display of stateliness, I couldn't fathom the workmanship involved, the precision, the painstaking time, energy and effort - not to mention the extravagant cost. They was positively breathtaking.

Was it worth it?

The thought chorused again and again in my mind.

Was it worth the cost?

Well, millions of people have been known to travel every year to see the wonder of it all…

It made me think of myself. If I diligently worked on the painful moments, those pierced places that are hidden from sight, would I become something ‘more,' something 'extraordinary' too?

Food for thought.

Sharing my ponderings with my wonderful host, he presented another perspective,

"Pain just is. Accept it."

I didn’t like that. But I could see the power in it.

Watching the soldiers accept the pain of practise, I witnessed them gain the perfection and precision needed for the grand procession. The sight of splendour. The majestic monuments that littered the city, the palaces, the gardens, the cathedrals they were all painstakingly built with blood, sweat and tears...

A child wailed. I watched as her mother gently cooed and cuddled her. Women for generations have endured the stretching and tearing for the continuation of life itself…

Success in anything and everything calls for a price, a sacrifice. It’s uncomfortable. It’s costly. But it is necessary for the outcome.

I couldn't help but wonder... greatness always requires significant cost, so why does it have such a negative stigma? The pain involved. Why, when the outcome is so treasured?

In a culture that condones comfort to numb displeasure, I wonder if that’s what’s caused a weakening within its seams. The easy choice, the quick choice religiously chosen again and again over the challenging one?

In James it tells us to rejoice in all suffering for it develops character, that the persevering in its midst becomes a refining fire…

That explains a lot.

For so long I’ve struggled to accept the raw reality I’ve faced, perhaps the answer lies in persevering in the midst of it all. Continuing, one foot after the other, one choice after another. To keep going, keep moving, keep hoping in the midst of the storm. Perhaps it is the perspective shift of looking at the crucible of pain as a gift for the product that awaits on the other side?

The question is, can I endure it? Will I endure it?

At the end of the day, choice always remains, and in this case the choice remaining is mine.