Gratitude Sunday: A Fine And Pain Filled Life

Gratitude * Sunday
Sunday’s heartfelt tradition.
A time to slow down, to reflect, to be grateful.
A list of gratitudes, our gratefulness feeds one another.
Quoted from Taryn Wilson
Joining the Gratitude Sunday Tradition at Wooly Moss Roots.

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Sunday Haiku
Clover scented air
wafts lazily through open
screened doors and windows.

Sunday Musings
What would life be without pain?

I’ve talked about emotional and physical pain on this blog. Grief and desire nearly manifest themselves as a physical pain in the body, they weigh so heavily upon the soul. It is a fine line between where the physical pain of emotion begins and ends.

But physical pain can be so exquisite. So fine. So remarkable. So disintegrative to wholeness. Especially when there can be no doubt to what the eye sees. When one damages one’s finger and it swells to the size of a sausage, no one can dispute constant pain. It is not illusive like grief which invisibly tiptoes in and out of one’s daily existence.

It’s just one finger constantly announcing its presence to your nerve fibers. Announcing it loudly whenever one wants to attend to personal needs such as brushing teeth or hair, or personal hygiene after using the relief station, or putting clothes on. Whenever one wants to turn the ignition key of the car, or put groceries away, or cook. Whenever one wants to eat with fingers or fork. Whenever one wants to write a fine sentence on this keyboard.

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Amazing how dependent I am on the index finger of my dominant hand, yet I am lucky to have nine more fully functional fingers. Thanks be to all the gods, goddesses, and the universe for being semi-ambidextrous. I am grateful also for the cognition of the scientific notion of smudging, or the way the pain spreads to close areas not really affected by the damage, the nerves sharing all its excellent new information about damaged tissues to the closest neighboring flesh.

A splint of course merely changes the orientation of the finger. The finger throbs and sweats inside its unaccustomed outfit, but is less likely to bring an expletived cry of pain when bumped because of the protection accorded by the splint. An x-ray may or may not show a broken bone; either way the only solution is the $5.00 splint from the local pharmacy. I do not need the expense of a doctor or an x-ray to treat this owie.

As a bearer of pain, I can only be called a wus, or a wienie, or a cry-baby. Physical pain absolutely undoes me. I lose focus and the ability to concentrate and it exhausts me. One pain at one spot in my body and suddenly all the other parts hurt as well. It’s sort of mentally crazy-making, which is painful as well, when one does not feel in one’s full capacity.

I have diminished over the years as I have adjusted to chronic pain and the changes it brings to my ability to participate in life. I understand more about other people and what they may be experiencing. I can appreciate the challenges of the changing aging body.

I fight the good fight. I keep going, doing, disregarding the pain, working through it, which makes me simultaneously of two minds: the mind that is with the physical body bearing the pain, and the mind that is actively telling the body to ignore the discomfort. When you have pain you are precisely in this moment.

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Pain lasts for the moment. Here and gone; here and back; here and now. Nothing makes you feel more humanly and spiritually alive than experiencing the immediacy of pain, except maybe the glorious emotion of joy. I’d rather have joy but I live in my body, so pain is the journey’s pathway.

If you are able right now, enjoy it. Use it every moment you can; work and play as hard as you can, no matter your age. Regardless of how you take care of your health, the body ages and eventually change will catch up to you. Then you too can say, enjoy it while you’ve got it. Then enjoy it any way whatever ability you have left.

Color Watch – blooming attractions in my neighborhoods this week – purple dangly ear-ringed locust trees; DSCN4028brilliant sunshiny yellow scotch broom grows wild along Oregon roads and highways; scotch-broom-in-field[1] poppies, poppies; DSCN3939 DSCN3947 local farm fields full of crimson clover. 1298487910[1]

Currently Reading – The Secret Scripture (2008, fiction) by Sebastian Barry; Breakthrough: How One Teen Innovator is Changing the World (2015, science) by Jack Andraka with Matthew Lysiak; How to Change Anybody: Proven Techniques to Change Anyone’s Attitudes, Behaviors, Feelings, and Beliefs (2005, communication psychology) by David J Lieberman; Storybook Style: America’s Whimsical Homes of the Twenties ( 2001, architecture) by Arrol Gellner. Yes, concurrently.

This week I have been grateful for:

  • The fresh sweet smell in the air when the fields of crimson clover bloom.
  • Living in a semi-rural agricultural area where the air is still mostly sweet and pure.
  • Days when my neighbor is not burning an outside smoky wood fire so I can have open doors and windows to let the sweet air in and the stale air out.
  • Teenagers and other youth whom I hope will grow into how to save our starship earth.
  • Gardens and gardeners.
  • The green growing abundance all around us even in the cracks of concrete, aggregate, and asphalt. The force of nature cannot be stopped. Fortunately.
  • Bees. For all their nuisance in the wrong places and all they do good in the right places.
  • The joy in pain free moments.
  • Feeling alive in the painful moments.
  • Other writers who came before me who said what they wanted to say.
  • Reading, learning, writing.
  • Typing with nine fingers.
  • Today.
  • Water.

Hoping you have a lovely week.

Namaste. Peace. Blessings.

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Floral ribbon border by Laurel Burch

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This entry was posted in abundance, Aging, Education, GRATITUDE, Grief, Health, Medicine, Photography, Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to Gratitude Sunday: A Fine And Pain Filled Life

  1. heathermama says:

    ❤ i just love your sunday posts.

    Like

  2. billmarydrew says:

    I’ve been feeling new pains of an aging body. No longer do I feel restored by sleep. I unfold my joints and muscles in the morning. Walking takes about 10 minutes to do well. I groan, moan and say things like “oy!” The mind says, “Go!”. The body pain says, “Whoa!”

    Like

  3. Pingback: Gratitude Sunday: In the Name of The Mother | Sassy Kas

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