The pain is receding slowly. The drugged feeling is still there from the medications I am on, but the morning is so misty and quiet that I can’t help sinking into it. This past few days, have been dark. I have felt humbled by my body. Having pulled a muscle in my lower back a couple of days ago, I have felt pain, sharp shooting pain that made moving impossible. Thanks to medications, I’m slowly healing, but this is not one of those journeys I would ever take of my own volition. “Hey, lets see how this works”, were not my words. In my defense, I did not think, ‘why me?’ Rather, I thought ‘How come? How did this happen?’ I’m speechless at that quality of change that can take us walking, running, dancing, to being in bed, in an instant. I’m amazed at the speed of this change, and humbled and even sort of in a haze at how unpredictable life really is. And in every instant, I’m aware that this is temporary in a way, because I can feel my body healing, but what about those for whom this is not temporary? What about those who live with pain on a daily basis?
I’m getting a sense of how it is to be let down by your body.
I think in a way, when something like this happens we make space for gratitude. Gratitude for that same body that manages so many other things so well, that breathes, moves, feels sensations and keeps us alive. Maybe it is time to say a prayer to that body, to take in the fullness of all that it feels, the sensations, the spaciousness and the contracting. Maybe it is time to make room to be in the body without regrets or wants, but to simply be. And just maybe, that is where the freedom is.
And we make room to say a silent prayer for all those and all that which helps us, supports us and makes room for healing.
With Love, S.