Some years ago I read an anecdote in one of Rachel Naomi Remen's books about a woman with a chronic illness who embroidered the above phrase into a wall hanging that she used as a personal reminder. As a person living with Fibromyalgia, I've found it a very useful slogan indeed.
Case in point: I love to go hear/watch Flamenco at a trendy late night club on Capitol Hill. One time I had a longstanding plan to go experience Flamenco on a certain date with three of my friends. When the night in question rolled around, I realized I was really quite sick. I thought about cancelling, but I love Flamenco, and the friends are not too shabby either. I went. We ordered drinks and snacks and, finding myself basically unable to eat due to severe GI discomfort, I pretty quickly surrendered my fork. The performance started, and I was still acutely aware of my physical pain. But, soon, my soul, like the dancer that night, was on fire. By the end of the evening, I was so exhausted from fighting back pain that I could barely stand up; at the same time, I felt filled with inspiration. Physically, I was stumbling, but, emotionally and spiritually, I was in flight.
Sometimes, it appears, the Buddhists are right: It is possible to separate pain from suffering. Furthermore, if it's worth doing, it may well be worth doing half-assed.Labels: chronic illness