"If it's not fun, why do it?"

Posts tagged ‘Pain’

Lame lament

Broken nail, shattered dreams.

Broken nail, shattered dreams. © JustHavingFun

Woe the loss, sad is the day. My thumbnail broke.

Brittle nails that break scourge my female sensibility. Despite being an inconvenience when playing guitar, long—or in my case, even fingertip length—fingernails seemed to be a hallmark of femininity. Filing, shaping, polishing, and having colored nails announced some mastery of the feminine identity, as much as high-heeled shoes or pouffy hairstyles when I was young. Somehow this connection followed me to this stage of adulthood. Thus, the lament.

How could this be? And here, I have invested time and money into preserving its length and shape, giving it hue and shine, an armored coat of lacquer to protect it. Yet it broke, in the same place as usual, saying “nyah nyah” to the care afforded it and the color applied.

Maybe I should have chosen a stronger color than number 80, a bubblegum pink. Eighty seems not to be my lucky number. Perhaps a springy green (74), metallic studded gray (88), or armor blue-black (87) could have averted this tragedy, mishap, failure. Gold (72) for richness couldn’t have prevented a break, nor could the delicacy and fair dusting of pink sparkles in a clear background (82). But setting aside fickle numerology or the vagaries of color protection in nail polish, the fact remains that my DNA codes for brittle nails and any color would have failed me.

OPI gel color samples.

OPI gel color samples. © JustHavingFun

What genetic advantage could weak nails have afforded my great-great-great-etc.-grandmothers all the way back to Sinai? Lacking steel tweezers, tough nails could have removed splinters; minus bamboo backscratchers, they would have pleased many generations of itchy backs…. Useful for picking up nickels off counters, scraping excess paint from a canvas, making that tap tap tapping sound when drumming fingers on a tabletop….

What an impractical question, and a more impracticable answer. Weak nails just are. There’s no explanation, no justification. Having snagged on my blouse and pulled off, the nail tip fragment is now lying on my desk. I hadn’t the heart to toss it in the trash as I am writing. I’m staring at it, it is staring at me, and we are staring at each other together. It’s a stalemate.

Broken nail tip. © JustHavingFun

Broken nail tip. © JustHavingFun

It hurts, but it doesn’t hurt hurt. May this be my biggest tragedy in life. A broken nail. May we all not suffer more than a broken nail. Two broken nails even. That should be the worst thing to happen. Ever.

 

Pain free

Time Heals Most

I don’t think more reps can help this one.

I want a pain free day. No itches, no strains, no numbness, no aches, no headaches, no bumps, no tingles nor twinges. What an original thought!

I slept funny a few weeks ago and got a “crink” in my neck. It really put a crink in my life; it hurt to move, sit, stand, lie, and worse-type! I felt like such a whiner, but I couldn’t help it.The pain distracted me from my normal enjoyment of simple things like the breezes coming through the open windows and seeing the leaves change color. Pain tossed a thick veil over my sunny disposition and left a miserable, soggy grouch.

Other people get banged up and carry on normally it seems. Me, I get a paper cut and I’m in agony. For days. My boo boos grow boo boos and I’m the only one who can kiss them better. Poor me-bring out the sappy violin music.

I’m sure it’s a test from Above. I grew the discipline to say “rats” instead of something stronger. That alone is a gift.

Thankfully miracles do happen and angels in the form of physical therapists guide me to relief. Only compassionate people can be PTs. Yeah it hurts, they affirm, but we’re going to get you moving. Time – and doing plenty of reps – heals all… or most.

Grouchy but Passionate

 

I’m having a grouchy couple of days.

To divert my attention from the ouchies and aches that distract me from my usual attitude of focusing on happiness, I’m thinking about things that I’m passionate about.

The Boys of Summer, 2007 (c) JustHavingFun

The Boys of Summer, 2007 (c) JustHavingFun

First answer that popped into my head: My kids.  Then, … the sound of crickets.

Oh, I have my yarn to knit and crochet, watercolors to smear into new paintings, and my fabric stash to quilt and sew. I have my blog to write, and the entire World Wide Web to feed my curiosity about anything I want to learn. And of course, I have my library card. Maybe I’m not too passionate these days. I expect passion to evoke some wild, urgent feelings, and frankly, my ouchies are the only ones that feel urgent. Sneer. Grumble. Hand me a pain-killer, or find a way to let me sleep through the night.

Paul Hudson wrote in Elite Daily  10 Things That Truly Passionate People Do Differently“:

1. Start their days early.
2. Always have their passions on their mind.
3. Get excited more than the average person.
4. Get pissed off and emotional more than the average person.
5. Willing to risk more and put more on the line.
6. Devote their lives to their dreams.
7. Surround themselves with their work.
8. Can’t help but talk about their projects.
9. Tend to either be pushing ahead full throttle or are completely still.
10. Always think positively about the future.

So I’m reading the list and mentally checking off the Yes/No boxes. It seems to me they’re mostly “no”:

1. Rarely. Night owl. Always was.
2. Nope.
3. Not me. I’m pretty calm.
4. Pissed off? Me? Slow to anger…
5. Not a risk taker. Anymore. Would like to get a motorcycle, however.
6. Last night I dreamed about buying yarn in Iceland.
7. I’m surrounded by … clutter.
8. Got nothing [interesting] to say.
9. Completely still. That’s one I can get into.
10. Think positively about the future. Well, yeah, duh!

I guess my passion is the future. Then I can indulge in all of my interests. Things will be good. My sons are growing into wonderful, caring men and I look forward to seeing how they turn out. In the future there will be freedom from this pain; all the ouchies will go away.  Like Manhattan’s Second Avenue Subway line, it is anxiously and happily awaited.

Happiness is My Choice, 1

DSC02414We all have our own painful challenges. Hashem (G-d) gives us challenges to perfect us. Some ways we can understand at the time: immunization shots hurt when given but we don’t suffer a worse disease. We may only get an inkling about other benefits after we’ve passed phases of our lives: I may have failed to get the job I wanted but ended up in a more satisfying career I’d never have chosen at the outset. We may never understand how certain challenges perfect us; it’s incomprehensible why a child must suffer and die.

Pain, loneliness, fear, temptation, despair, confusion, loss, sadness, and torment — these are some of the feelings we encounter during those “challenges” (which is a dressed up word for events seen as negative). Our pain is real, our losses are tangible. But it is all in His Plan.

And in the end is the grave….

There’s a saying that if you had the opportunity to exchange your “peckel” (package/burden) with others, you’d ultimately choose your own troubles. Unless that is happening to me or mine, perhaps it’s not quite real to me. I may not feel your pain and be completely sympathetic. There are women who are scorned by their husbands or are abused; severely impoverished; who suffer debilitating diseases, or screaming pain. But that’s not my challenge. “Hey, I feel for you {{{hug}}}” I can write on Facebook, then click on the next post, find the next cartoon for a laugh. I’ll stick with my challenges because they are familiar. I know how to deal with them… or not.

Today’s news identifies African countries devastated by Ebola and AIDS. People are dying. Those problems seem so far away. Winter arrives in New York City, inviting mentally ill and poor people to seek shelter on sidewalks and in subway stations, How can this happen in the most advanced civilization in history? I should feel pain, but I usually don’t until it is me bleeding, until I stumble over what’s in front of me. Otherwise I’d be crying all the time. Perhaps that’s preferable?

Photo_121607_003Pain and tears are NOT my destiny. I am meant to soar, to reap the benefits of His World and pass on the message that “All He Does is For the Good.” It is for me to remove blinders, starting with myself first, and illuminate dark corners. I spread my wings and reach for the Heavens. To that I can aspire.

 

DSC02429adjEvery day is a gift, no matter how painful. Our faith demands that we cultivate the certainty that all is for the best. Gratitude is our nation’s backbone. Any outcome, therefore, can be a “happy ending.” Happiness is our choice. Happiness through pain is our privilege.

Today I pray to be happy with my lot and hope to soar. Or at least, let me have the patience to grow from the pain… and wait for the Big Reveal, whether it be now in my time, or later, in the World to Come.

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