LIFE IS PAIN
http://markmusing.com
Take something for pain you say — sure, I have, I will, I did, I did again, I hurt, I limp, I’ll get better, I’ll get over it, I don’t feel incapacitated in any way except when it hurts, when I stand to walk — and then it hurts more, or when I roll over in bed and suddenly touching, just a sheet and weight of the covers against a toe causes this pain to be vivid like a big screen movie and fear of standing up, standing on it keeps me in bed longer — but from bed I can’t take a pill so up from bed I got. It’s just a foot. And it hurts again, today. Tomorrow it might not. The day after — and many days after — it won’t hurt. Meanwhile some whining will occur.
Is it necessary, avoidable, inevitable, excusable?
I’m thinking about this a lot, not because of my joint, but juxtaposed against Gary’s pain (or substitute someone’s name that you know who is in a pain-to-death path), and trying to get better perspective on this. Each time I hear about or read about someone’s horrid life drama wrestling with pain pasted onto a prognosis of more pain, worse pain and a best-before date, I feel so bloody lucky to have my pain.
Little aches come and go, but significant pains, deadly pains, are not temporary. We can get a second wind perhaps, another chapter of course — but none of it ends well, because in the end, it ends.
Life is not a pencil drawing, it doesn’t come with an eraser. No-draft, no sketch — we just live it as an original series of finished works. We can’t go back . . .
Life is where pain lives. Death is not a place for pain. Dying, is very painful for some — long, drawn out. Swift for others. Painless for some.
Living is very painful for some — long, drawn out. Swift for others. Painless for some.
Between birth and death joy teaches us joy by giving us painful experiences when pain teaches us how really joyous the joy was and we get the choice to appreciate the joy more.
Divide between pain and comfort, like hinge between sad and happy depending on how you swing the gage. Margin of separation so small, that just a tiny bit one way or the other allows us to smile, or prevents us from even thinking a smile is possible.
Some people are in deep pain, or dying.
I sometimes think my recurrent intermittent foot pain is a metaphor lesson coming home to roost. And each time I get this pain, each time I feel like a whiney wimp about it — I can’t help but think about those whose real pain puts my tiny discomfort into perspective, those who live with dying until death overcomes them, those who live with grief until it swallows them up. Compared to them, I have no pain at all.
column written/ published from Calgary
morning walk: 2C / 35F, overcast and gloomy, snow predicted, footing dodgy and my pace is slow to Gusta’s chagrin but she is patient with me, traffic light, it must be Friday!
Follow the 4 agreements.. Then you will know for sure. Good Morning. Hope your day is going well, SR, Whiterock, BC
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