On the Edge of Vulnerable: A Lesson from Ailment and Healing
I have this thing for surgeries in the fall. Or I should say, I have this thing for facing death while facing life. I am an autumn baby. My arrival was WAY early (don’t worry, I learned my lesson and am now chronically late to everything). As such, I pretty much died at the same time I was being born. Breath stopped and then was restarted. Last rights were read, but 3 months later I emerged officially born from the hospital and into life.
Since then, hospitals have not remained unfamiliar to me. I recently realized this is the third year I am spending my birthday recovering from a surgery. When every new year is a notch declaring, "You made it! Let's try another one!" it feels like surgery heightens that precarious feeling of those years being a fragile gift. Some are able to barrel through, ignoring our impermanence until the end. But this life has given me a body that reminds me of the delicacy. It demands love. It requires compassion, attention, and helping hands.On the surface this can feel like a fight against negatives: fear, pain, dysfunction, disability, disease. Deeper, though, it is life swinging its pendulum, showing me the edge of both ends and heights. And on that other side I am lucky enough to realize and know support, a kind of connection that says, “You are worthy as you are. No proving. No doing. Just be and I will love you.”This seems to be something that life really (really really) wants me to get a firm grasp on. I will say, it is difficult being in that space of vulnerability and need, but when I am able to feel this message of worth down to my bones, it is a birthday gift better than any other. ___Poem: "Consoled"When the pain ate my composure:"Remember," you consoled,"this is temporary."When the painshook my hands,my legs, my core,like brittle and dying leaves:"Remember, you are fightingback for good."When the pain chilled my body, but boiledthe salty tears, forcing them to rise,shake the lid, spill over...When the pain punchedmy gut, gouged knotted nerves,the relentless lowhum of swarming bees...When the pain when the pain when the pain pain pain PAIN:"Remember, I am herewith you."
Since then, hospitals have not remained unfamiliar to me. I recently realized this is the third year I am spending my birthday recovering from a surgery. When every new year is a notch declaring, "You made it! Let's try another one!" it feels like surgery heightens that precarious feeling of those years being a fragile gift. Some are able to barrel through, ignoring our impermanence until the end. But this life has given me a body that reminds me of the delicacy. It demands love. It requires compassion, attention, and helping hands.On the surface this can feel like a fight against negatives: fear, pain, dysfunction, disability, disease. Deeper, though, it is life swinging its pendulum, showing me the edge of both ends and heights. And on that other side I am lucky enough to realize and know support, a kind of connection that says, “You are worthy as you are. No proving. No doing. Just be and I will love you.”This seems to be something that life really (really really) wants me to get a firm grasp on. I will say, it is difficult being in that space of vulnerability and need, but when I am able to feel this message of worth down to my bones, it is a birthday gift better than any other. ___Poem: "Consoled"When the pain ate my composure:"Remember," you consoled,"this is temporary."When the painshook my hands,my legs, my core,like brittle and dying leaves:"Remember, you are fightingback for good."When the pain chilled my body, but boiledthe salty tears, forcing them to rise,shake the lid, spill over...When the pain punchedmy gut, gouged knotted nerves,the relentless lowhum of swarming bees...When the pain when the pain when the pain pain pain PAIN:"Remember, I am herewith you."
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