I wanted to return to blogging today with a clear head and better energy, after my weekend of disastrous sleep. Unfortunately I’m not where I want to be. For the last two nights I have relied on prescription meds to better manage my pain, hoping it would lead to quality snoozing. While I have been sleeping better and deeper and the edge has been taken off my pain, the meds have left me groggy during daytime hours. Really groggy. Scary groggy. I won’t get behind the wheel of my car, or do much else. Gallons of the strongest coffee imaginable couldn’t snap me out of this.
Feeling rather stagnant this morning, I thought I would try some light yoga moves. Instead I fell asleep on the floor and stayed there for an hour. If it wasn’t for Jack’s whining and Grace’s wet nose shoved into my back I would probably still be in that very spot, completely gone from the world.
If I want production, if I want a clean, immaculate house, if I want every errand run and every little thing in order, if I want meaningful words to flow easily, I can’t be like this. But the alternate choice is equally debilitating. I was talking to a dear friend of mine on Monday and she asked me what my pain feels like when I don’t medicate. She was horrified by my answer. The string of days with zero sleep is merely a small part. At best, the pain feels like a deep, electric burn all over. Most often it feels like that ache you get in your joints when you have the flu, but more intense, and it just doesn’t stop. At worst, the pain feels like barbed wire or broken glass being shoved into my skin, over every screaming inch of me.
I know what I am supposed to think and feel. And overall, despite my body and what it does to me, I do feel a general sense of content. There is tremendous good in my life. It is obvious to me every day, and in every moment. But in times like this I do have to work a little harder to be happy.
And in times like this, it is an effort that I enthusiastically embrace.
Audrey Hepburn once said, “to plant a garden is to believe in tomorrow.” Lovely words from an equally lovely woman. And true, so very true. Six weeks ago my husband and I planted flowers, squash, Japanese cucumber, and tomatoes of various sizes. Stepping outside every day into the glorious sunshine, witnessing this growth and progress, in all its graceful simplicity, truly does give me a joy and sense of meaning, at a time when I feel particularly fragile.
I will never tire of this deliberation of nature, this consciousness; witnessing each plant growing, calling, reaching for a higher purpose. All of this beauty and bounty a true embodiment; proof of, and a belief in, something bigger. It reminds, and it speaks; telling me this journey is a worthwhile one, and there is an equally worthy lesson in the struggle.
I believe again.
I really, really do.
Enjoy the rest of your week, friends. May your weekend be a truly beautiful one.