I’m writing these words from the floor of my bedroom in the middle of the night. For over two weeks now I’ve been in pain in the lower half of my back. I don’t walk normally, sit for long, or lay down without a fair amount of pain. A little while ago I was awakened by pain. It’s pain that got me to the floor where I am and have been. I’ve been doing stretches and exercises, trying to relieve the pain.
[Several minutes spent rolling, moving, laying face down….]
Yesterday I did what I thought I would never do. Out of sheer desperation I went to a chiropractor. I’ll spare you the awkward details, but left there in much the same condition as I went in. Except with less money in my account.
For the two previous nights before tonight, I’ve slept on the floor very near to where I am right now, trying to find some comfort. I’ve blamed my mattress, my shoes, my office chair, my diet, dehydration, and even my bowels as culprits for this pain. I hereby absolve and apologize to all of those things because all evidence of their alleged wrongdoing is circumstantial and inconclusive.
Pain. There are few words in our language so abhorred as this one. To say it is to wince, isn’t it?
And man am I in it.
But here’s the thing. Listen now. I’m not a victim. I’m a student. Pain is what I’m in, it’s not who I am. My experience doesn’t equal my identity. And call me crazy, but as I was writhing a while ago (still in the dead of night), I thought, “What am I learning?” Because if I’m going through this, I’m not going to be foolish enough to waste the experience on self pity and complaining. Yes sir, pain is a great teacher. And I’m all ears.