Due to a very serious challenge to my back, my doctor told me to write about my pain. I am surprised at the form this has taken. Because I can’t walk without a great deal of difficulty, every step I take has meaning. Never before, have my steps prompted so much thought. They all have more purpose and cause me to consider what matters most right now.
There are humiliating parts of all illnesses. Pain meds bind you, Metamucil makes you feel like you have to be attentive to the signals or risk having an accident. It can take your thinking to sad places or to happy places where there once were no tears. It feels like a warrior’s spiritual journey, if you allow it to be. This morning I practiced forgiving myself, and everyone and everything. Not forgiving is like drinking poison, and is the polar opposite of the healing I am seeking.
I dream of moving my body as I did before. I set aside time to visualize and feel. To pray. Never have I appreciated or thanked my body as I am now. Appreciation is in order, because I sense my spine trying to heal and, as I do this, the pain recedes ever so slightly. I have a foothold on this steep climb. My body arranges itself and compensates for what it cannot bear. Medical tests have proven that this kind of work does improve pain rather miraculously.
Writers have accomplished some of their greatest works from a place attached to pain. So, this day I resolve to realize that no matter what gets done or what is left undone, pain or not, I will live wholeheartedly and embrace this pain. The Buddha said the rest will be easy. I think I would like to believe that.