1: to undergo (as a hardship) especially without giving in: Suffer
2: to regard with acceptance or tolerance
Endure (v.): late 14th century, “to undergo or suffer” (especially without breaking); also “to continue in existence,” from Old French endurer (12th century) “make hard, harden; bear, tolerate; keep up, maintain,” from indurare “make hard,” in Late Latin “harden (the heart) against,” from in- + durare “to harden,” from durus “hard,” from Proto-Indo-European dru-ro-, from root deru- “be firm, solid, steadfast” (related: true).
Replaced the important Old English verb dreogan, which survives in dialectal dree.
“Pour on, I will endure.”
William Shakespeare (1564-1616, English poet, playwright, and actor, regarded as the greatest writer in the English language and the world’s pre-eminent dramatist)
“I will love the light for it shows me the way, yet I will endure the darkness because it shows me the stars.”
Og Mandino (1923-1996, American author, best known for the bestselling book, “The Greatest Salesman in the World”)
“Autumn is my favorite season of all. It is a transitory period that allows the earth to rest before it sees the harshness of winter and hears the promise of spring.”
Kamand Kojouri (writer from England)
“Solitude is the soil in which genius is planted, creativity grows, and legends bloom; faith in oneself is the rain that cultivates a hero to endure the storm, and bare the genesis of a new world, a new forest.”
Mike Norton (bestselling independent author and U.S. military veteran, 7-time winner of USS Dwight Eisenhower award for essays on world peace and respect)
“I think a hero is an ordinary individual who finds strength to persevere and endure in the spite of overwhelming obstacles.”
Christopher Reeve (1952-2004, actor, film director, director, producer, screenwriter, author, and activist)
“Pour on, I will endure.” — William Shakespeare
Years ago, I was riding the local train on the New York Subway, going home from work. It was a fairly crowded train, but not too overwhelming considering it was rush hour. I was standing up holding onto the bar near an exit door when I heard a young woman screaming loudly in the center of the train car. As I got closer I could see that she was shouting at her child, a little girl about 6 months old sitting in a stroller. Visibly stunned, the child stared back at her mother and began to whimper and then cry.
Everyone on that subway car looked away, annoyed and ashamed. I did the opposite I got closer and asked her if there was something I could do to help.
The young woman looked at me and told me, “Mind your business!” I calmly told her that she and that baby were my business.
Well, that set her off and she let me have it, cursing me up and down, assaulting viscerally me with her words. I stood centered and grounded, determined to endure her lashings. I wanted her to take her frustration and anger out on me instead of her baby.
The train traveled from the Upper Westside to the West Harlem for about 3 miles. As the crowd on the train thinned, other young women feeling her pain put their heads and began to cry.
I continued to stand still, keeping my eyes compassionately on her.
Something miraculous began to happen and shift. The young mother realized that I wasn’t moving and neither was anyone else. She picked up her baby and began to comfort the child. Her ranting and raving subsided, and she slid into a calmer state of peace.
Quickly, she got ready to get off on the next stop, which was my stop too. But, instead of getting off with her I let her go, not wanting to back her in a corner.
Once the train sped away, I cried realizing how much pain I had endured. Two older women who apparently saw the whole event jumped out of their seats and came to my side, putting their arms around me. One woman looked like a teacher and the other a nun. One woman said, “Please forgive her. They get so angry sometimes.” I nodded my head, and thanked them both before I getting off the train.
I cried and prayed all the way home for that young mother and her baby. I knew that my life had changed for the better with the reminder that I, who was as a baby of a young teenager mother and father was completely cared for.
It’s challenging sometimes to listen deeply and to empathize with the “other,” especially if that person is filled with emotion, frustration, and anger.
Continue to listen deeply and compassionately, sojourners, so you might understand the suffering of others and narrow the gaps of divisiveness.
Written with Love, Tonya