Consider My Mind Blown

Earlier this week, when I was writing Tuesday's post, something really strange happened. I'm sitting at the computer, headset on, dictating to Dragon (and correcting Dragon, as it was having a particularly persnickety day), writing a new variation of an old post. Let's be honest here – this thing about looking at what I have, instead of what I don’t have is not a new lesson for me. It happens every time I get lost in the woods. At some point, something pushes past the fog of pain, heavy meds and resentment and I realize yet again that I've rolled over and played dead, given control of my life to something that can't be trusted with that control and finally, I give myself that kick in the arse and get back on the horse that threw me. Part of that is remembering gratitude. Writing down what makes me grateful, saying it out loud.

So there I am, listing The Gratitudes and at the very end, I find myself writing that I am grateful for the pain, because it teaches me what's important. And then I sat for a while, gaping at my monitor, not quite believing what I had written. I ran the internal doublecheck, assessing whether or not this was a real sentiment or just something that I felt I should aspire to, because then maybe it would get easier.

Turns out, I meant it.

And if you'll pardon me for a moment, I need to sit and gape for a while again. I haven't been able to truly feel the feeling since, as I am too busy being intellectually stunned at the concept. Grateful to the pain? The pain that regularly stalls me out for weeks on end? The pain that prevents me from sleeping and thinking, laughing, living and loving? The pain that makes me hate my body, despair and lose faith in the future? That pain?

Well, yes. That pain. Because it is also that pain that has taught me that you can adapt to almost anything, that has giving me coping skills I never would have had without it. It is that pain that has taught me that there is very little in this world that can't be made better by a good laugh. It is that pain that has motivated me to go deeper, to keep peeling off layer after layer of the shields of protection that have guarded me, to seek the truth without and within. By its relentless presence, that pain has taught me that you can't run away, that turning around and facing the problem, the demon is the only way to freedom. Realizing how much I owe to the pain is an overwhelmingly humbling feeling.

And here I am again, staring at that last sentence above, utterly gobsmacked. This one's going to take some time to wrap my head around.

(p.s. Note to the pain: me being grateful doesn’t mean you shouldn’t tone it down a smidge)