The Cause of All Your Pain

Every once in awhile a mes­sage from some unknown source comes to me. This one appeared in a dream, one strong enough to wake me up, almost with a gasp. The dream nar­ra­tive itself is mud­dled. All I can recall of it is that at the end some pow­er­ful pres­ence seemed to come near me. It “read” me, and then said this: “The cause of all your pain is unused potential.”

That was it.

I lay awake for a few moments still lis­ten­ing to the words. It seemed at first too sim­ple. And yet there was also a res­o­nance that could not be put aside. And it has made me want to go look at my poten­tials, what­ev­er they might be, just to see if I can draw the con­nec­tions with pain. There’s some­thing there, with­out a doubt. Per­haps because I believe in poten­tials so much and have always been a believ­er in the work to go beyond my own known edges.

I was talk­ing today with a col­league about the dream and he asked me, “Well, what are you going to do about it?” And I replied rather auto­mat­i­cal­ly “I don’t know. The dream is only a month old!” And so it is. Only a month old. Maybe the dream of an infant. Maybe the dream of an old man for whom a month is noth­ing. Maybe it’s just a shad­ow, a black­bird.

Have I been at fault for not doing more? Is that the pain? Were there paths I should have tak­en and chose not to take because it kept me safe or com­fort­able or igno­rant? The shad­ows gath­er into a skein of dark threads, a jum­ble it has become my oblig­a­tion to sort out and some­how weave into a lighter cloth. Is this mere­ly a dream about the unful­filled expec­ta­tions that I have placed on myself?

Farmacia de Dios

The ques­tions come, but also, and this is a sur­prise, a sense of equa­nim­i­ty. So that was what the pain was for, to remind me of who I could be, whether or not I chose to live it in that moment. I believe it was Marie Louise von Franz who said that we do much bet­ter bear­ing our suf­fer­ings if we know why we have them. It is when we don’t yet know that they are unbear­able to us. 

So per­haps, for now, that is enough. That pres­ence, that being, what­ev­er it was that came close to me, gave me the rea­son for pain in a way I might be able to under­stand it and to con­nect it to all my work and to my life in this world.

Technorati Tags: and . Link to blog posting. Link to Oestreich Associates website.

By Dan Oestreich

I am a consultant, coach, facilitator and trainer supporting the growth and development of leaders and teams. For further information about my work and services, please access my Oestreich Associates website.

8 comments

  1. Thanks for post­ing this, Dan — those words real­ly res­onate with me. Poten­tial is such an intan­gi­ble thing — well, not a ‘thing’ at all; a con­struct in our heads, or of our spir­its. Some days it seems so real, a force inside burst­ing to escape; oth­ers it seems like mere van­i­ty. The notion of unful­filled poten­tial is some­thing that nags at me all the time, and gets more insis­tent as I get old­er, and feel more and more that the oppor­tu­ni­ties for ful­fill­ment are dimin­ish­ing. But what trips me up, I think, is my habit of think­ing of poten­tial as some­thing to be ful­filled in the future. No mat­ter whether that’s a year away or a day away, it’s always the future. But of course, the only place for poten­tial to become real­i­ty is in the present moment. Easy to say, but I know I have yet to apply that lesson!

  2. Andy, thanks for drop­ping by. I absolute­ly love what you’ve writ­ten here. It’s a great reminder that poten­tials shunt­ed to the future can sim­ply become wish­es and long­ings, instead of new action and pres­ence. For poten­tial to be actu­al­ized in the present moment, I believe there must be real­ly great faith, a vision, a potent feel­ing, a pre­ferred role maybe (writer, singer, leader, shaman…) that gives shape to the raw stuff of pos­si­bil­i­ty. It also makes sense to ask the hard ques­tions about what we have done to stand in the way of allow­ing that flow and radi­ance to express itself through us. I know for myself that I can be trapped in dis­be­lief, but when I put my ego con­sid­er­a­tions and cri­tiques aside and allow myself to be the chan­nel, then it hap­pens, and there is ful­fill­ment, hap­pi­ness, and impact.

  3. Dan …

    Out­side of dreams that jar you awake, I hope all is going well. 

    A cou­ple of thoughts … 

    1 — Think about it this way … all poten­tial is unused. So maybe the pain your dream alludes to is about the weight of all that we do not do; about think­ing we should do the impos­si­ble when we are in fact doing all that is pos­si­ble (some­what of a conun­drum in that if it is poten­tial we nev­er will get to it … an end­less do loop). 

    I like the oth­er com­ment about being in the present. The pain could be about being else­where when you (we) should be here, now. 

    Maybe I could state it as avoid the pain by not striv­ing, strug­gling for some­thing that can­not be had. 

    2 — I remem­ber a friend and I talk­ing about a job prospect long ago. I said I thought it had poten­tial and he remarked along the lines that every­thing thing had poten­tial … allud­ing to his seek­ing to avoid the “grass is green­er over there” effect that ulti­mate­ly he might regret. Poten­tial always looks good on paper; real­i­ty may differ. 

    To sum up … don’t strive for what can­not be had and what you have done in the moment is in real­i­ty a great deal. 

    Best of luck on sort­ing this out.

  4. Great advice, Dean. Thanks.

    Yes, there does seem to be a thing about being emo­tion­al­ly hijacked by appar­ent poten­tials. As a friend of mine used to say, the three sad­dest words in the Eng­lish lan­guage are might have been. It’s easy to get hooked there and keep run­ning after some­thing that does­n’t exist. 

    I’ve con­tin­ued to reflect on the voice in my dream, which your com­ments and Andy’s are great­ly help­ing me do. I would say now that the under­ly­ing mes­sage also seemed to con­tain an affir­ma­tion; that the “unused poten­tial” is some­thing good, some­thing wait­ing, some­thing for me, or on my side at least. The pain is the result of dis­be­lief. The sense of the mes­sage is clos­er to “The cause of all your pain is your own unused gold.” And I have had some strong feel­ings late­ly about what that gold might be.…

    Thanks for writ­ing, Dean. It’s always a plea­sure to hear from you.

  5. Dan — thank you for pro­vok­ing this dia­logue that hits home so strong­ly to us com­menters. For me, I expe­ri­ence unused poten­tial when I “play small.” It’s an imme­di­ate reac­tion with­in me that leaves me sad.

    What I have noticed late­ly about myself is how I am “show­ing up.” It has helped me to cre­ate win-win’s on a more con­sis­tent basis in the busi­ness I am in. Part of it is learn­ing to stay in the present, as Dean men­tions in his com­ment that all poten­tial lies in the present. I find it more man­age­able to use “poten­tial” in minute by minute chunks. Delv­ing into what might hap­pen in the future does­n’t appeal to me as much. This is a new­er way for me to relate to the world — sim­ply by spend­ing more time in the present!

  6. Deb

    “Show­ing up” is a great way to say it — this use of the “unused gold.” I must say, your spir­it must be with me right now, for in the last moments as I began writ­ing this response to your com­ment three deer have decid­ed to stand right out­side my office win­dow munch­ing on the new green leaves of shrubs and young maples. Now I live in quite an urban area in an apart­ment of eighty units or so with very busy streets near­by, so for the deer to won­der by…well, it’s a sign don’t you think? They did, after all, show up just as your com­ment about show­ing up showed up on my computer!

Leave a comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.