Active Acceptance

Today, I  returned from a 2-mile-Just-10 walk full of ideas.  If you had told me 14 years ago that I would be the mother of two children and walking 2 miles, I'd have thought you insane.  Fourteen years ago, I hurt my back jumping on a shovel in our backyard in Chula Vista. 

At the moment it happened, I heard an audible pop.  My first thought was, "you really hurt you're back."  It wasn't long and I was in constant pain.  A trip to the doctor was futile.  When I complained of the pain, she scowled at me and said,  "I have a patient with arthritis in her fingers who still tats. You have too much time on your hands.  You're just depressed."   I was after hearing that.  Yet another doctor said "The x-ray shows nothing.  It's just arthritis.  Exercise." ( I didn't know then than you can't see a herniated disk with an x-ray.)

So, I exercised.  After several days, I was in so much pain that I'd spend several days sitting on the couch.  During those days, I often prayed for a quick end to this life.  The pain interfered with my sleep.  I had almost constant muscle spasms in my legs.  I was a mess.  This went on for a year with no end in sight.  Until, one morning before dawn as I lay awake, wracked with pain, I heard a strong voice inside me say,  "You can't fight this.  This is your life now.  Accept it.  Focus on the pain, put yourself in it's center.   It will make everything easier."

I didn't think I knew exactly what that meant but decided to give it a try.  I allowed myself to relax into the pain.  I focused my concentration on it's "center".  The pain eased.  I slept peacefully for several hours.  Over the next days and months, I'd often have to remember my "ah ha" moment.  When I was tired or did too much, the pain was strong.  I had, however, found a way to live with it.  Soon, we were pregnant with Shannon.  My life had found a new meaning.

When she was a baby, my left leg would often give out.  I was afraid I might drop her and decided to mention my back pain to yet another doctor.  This doctor immediately ordered an MRI and sent me to a surgeon.  When the surgeon entered the exam room upon my first visit.    Holding the MRI report, he shook his head and said,  "I can't believe you lived with this for over 2 years.  Do you know how many grown men I see with the same issue who are in tears because of the pain?"  How did you do it?"  I blushed and found that I didn't have the words to tell him.   I said nothing.

I was vindicated.  I was not a whiner.  Surgery soon helped relieve the constant pain.  There is still some residual nerve damage.  My feet sometimes drag.  I often walk with a limp.   I have to be carefull not to over do it.   My back and legs often hurt but I have found a way to live with it and accept it.

Genuine acceptance is anything but passive.  When I wrote about acceptance yesterday, I later realized that I don't want to give the impression that acceptance is a "roll over and play dead" state of being.  Learning to accept the pain required a radical shift in my perception.  I had to work at this new way of seeing.  I still have to work at it, especially when I'm tired and hurting.   Life  offers many new opportunities to accept "the things that I can not change."

I have spent years of my life fighting against pain, physical and emotional pain.  The harder I try to run from it the worse it gets.  Pain is part of life.  It's not an enemy.  It's a companion that I have to embrace.  When I accept this companion, I find that it has so much to share.    It forces me to look at the dark corners of my life.  It makes me strong and resilient.  It opens my heart to the pain of others.  It does these things only if I accept it for what it is and learn to listen to all it has to say.  The struggle to accept pain has been the single most defining activity of my life.