I had a list of things to do yesterday and today these have been blown off the calendar. I managed to hurt my back and I have been almost immobilized. What corks me isn’t so much the hurting of it, but the concern that I hurt it doing some activity that I love and am getting too old to do. My husband suggested that I may have hurt it cutting the lawn earlier in the week, first time this season. I love cutting the lawn with our push mower. I have been known to get angry with him for getting to the lawn with the rider before I could get to it.
My list included attending a kids’ art event with my daughter, Heidi, and helping her keep an eye on 2 1/2 -year-old Jackson while the older two children enjoy the projects. I’d really looked forward to it and I know my presence would have been helpful. Oh well!
Another event on my list was to go garage saling with some friends this morning, which is quite beautiful weather wise. Walking would be good for my back if I could only walk faster than an inchworm this morning. Oh well!
The third thing on my list was to work with Bernie on the garden. It was while working with him the other morning that the back pain first hit me. He will probably have to finish that project himself. It involves laying newspaper between rows of plantings and piling grass clippings on top. He can’t really wait for me to totally heal. It has to get done before the weeds start doing their dastardly deeds. Oh well!
I am blogging. I can tell already that I won’t be sitting for long stretches of time in front of this computer. Oh well!
I have a choice here and now. I can feel sorry for myself, which can provide some satisfaction. Or I can listen to my Teacher. There is a lot to learn while physically disabled. For one, I can pay attention to the pain itself and realize that there are actually moments when I don’t feel the pain and I can shoot up a prayer of gratitude for those moments. I can appreciate the fact that this is a temporary situation, which I believe it to be, and pray for those people who have chronic pain. In fact, accepting painful moments without bitterness can be the prayer itself. Another thing I can do is to view this experience as preparation. My mother and mother-in-law both had pain that limited them greatly in their latter years. I can practice the spiritual art of surrender today, in case it has to become a way of life later.
And I can give myself over to doing things that I don’t take time to do when I am active. I can read the book on U.S presidents that I have started. I can work on the blanket I am making. I can engage Bernie in waiting on me. That could be the sweetest thing of all.