Some days my back pain is so fierce, so demanding, that I dissolve into it. On these pain-black days, all I do is suffer. Pain wipes me out. I know the exercises, I know the drill. But pain consumes my mind. These are pain-black days frailty consumes me. The stress is very embarrassing at my semi-mature age.
Most days, my “teeter-totter” is my solace. It is my first line of defense. I hang upside down so often that my office has been named, “The Bat Cave.” It is my best toy; I balance the board horizontally and take a nap. I can watch television upside down. Other times, I close my eyes to dream that swinging in the air. The swing is tied to the large tree limb with gnarled roots that trace across the ground. I am standing up in the swing, pumping towards the sky. I am young. I am home in Shuffletown.
Then a black day occurs and sometimes, lingers. It seems to steal my soul. Recently, I just gave in to the pain-black days. Now, this is where I spend most of my days are pain-black.
In this battle against pain. It becomes so easy to surrender. The mere thought of movement hurts. Then, I wade into that ever-constant, ever-seeking, river of pain.
To my astonishment, I fell out of my chair last week. I broke nothing, but it jolted me into actually listening, once again, to good advice. I was lost in pain and the strain was visible. Some, say that I begun each time I move.
I broke out the heating pad, blanket, and pillow. I spent three days stretched out on the couch or in my astronaut chair. I removed all conscious and subconscious demands on myself. I allowed myself to rest. I took an interlude. Consciously, I listened to good advice and took it to heart.
I stepped away from the hurt, gave myself breathing space and observed my pain, respected it. Inside my mind on the great stage of daydreams, I took a deep breath and blew all troubles away, I watched it all float away into a far, far universe away from me. I discovered when I have rested, I make better judgments…better choices. It is like waking to sunrise. You will find Spirit in rest.
Still. “It is what it is,” as a friend of mine says, Day follows day, but she and I know a secret. It is not what ails that matters. It is a given. It is how I live, for now, among these days. It is how I chose to live my life that matters. This is up to me, only me. I will count sunrises.