How Sinead O’Connor’s journey can be a lesson in compassion for us all
This is a blog I wrote in 2015, and one I’d like to revive, given Sinead’s recent passing because her life, her journey, and her music left an imprint on my heart. And because as a trauma survivor, her story feels so very personal.
It’s 4:00 p.m. here in Boston, and as the sun begins to make its descent I notice something in my newsfeed. The words “Sinead O’Connor” and “suicide” flash across the screen. “I hate social media”, I tell myself simultaneously clicking on the link. It’s not morbid curiosity that urges me on, but a genuine love and compassion for this incredible soul who has touched my life in ways she can never comprehend. In my 20’s it was Sinead’s courage to be herself that inspired me to seek more authenticity. Her hard-edged otherworldliness gave me a sense of comfort I still find difficult to articulate.
“I have a universe inside me. There I can go where Spirit guides me.”
I open the page. I read her words. I instantly understand her pain. Unlike most cries for help, this feels more like a deep and tremendous ache that shreds my insides from one end to the other. I feel her rage so keenly. The leftover cries for a mother who would leave her outside for days on end with no food. The sexual abuse she suffered…
