Why does pain hurt so much ? Where does it come from ? Why is it so paralysing ? When do we start noticing it ? When do we stop noticing it ? What is it teaching us ?
At the moment my hands are old, my neck is tired, my back and legs need to rest. I want to sleep. Yet I am sitting here writing about it ? Is it because I don't respect my body enough ? Is it because I don't trust pain as a gauge of reality. What is reality ? “ I am perfect, whole and complete”, so why don't I feel like that ? Why is my body full of frustration ?
They say that our bodies reflect how peaceful our minds are ... well mine is still in Afghanistan. I hope there'll be a reprieve, soon. Maybe I can then have a 'home coming', honouring where I've been and appreciating where I am.
I don't believe my body. I know I am healthy and full of energy. I know I am happy and bouncy. I know I can't wait to jump into the next experience and I resent my body telling me otherwise.
Recently I have been finding peace with contrast and shadow with hate and love, with me. Maybe I will soon be able to accept and respect my body when it has had enough. Maybe my mind and body will once again marry and instead of pushing my arms and my weakened heart into the square buttons in front of me to produce, maybe I will lie in my hammock somewhere, anywhere and just stop. Maybe I will never start again, maybe that's what I'm afraid of ... ?
What would it be like to stop ? Would I not be or just not do or neither ? Isn't stopping just as painful ?
Isn't death frightening ? The stillness, the emptiness. Isn't it comforting ? But there is no more, or is there ? Is it like being by your favourite stream, watching your favourite person throw ball for your favourite dog as your favourite sun hits it's favourite bough ? Isn't it like that forever, except you don't think about leaving, about doing, about needing ? It never ends and it always feels good, isn't that what it's like ?
Sometimes the things we are most afraid of are the things we need most. Sometimes we tell ourselves what we need without really listening to ourselves. Sometimes we 'gang up on ourselves'. Sometimes we create our own pain. Sometimes there is no pain, just peace. Sometimes it feels good, even awesome and it's okay.
Sometimes it doesn't have to hurt and it's okay. Sometimes hurting is healing and peeling, sometimes it's sore. Sometimes there's more. I have the more. I am just learning to accept it, to welcome it home, to greet it with open arms and to always be able to let it go. My more is me and never leaves me. My more never dies and I need never fear it. My more is available all day, every day. It just is. Welcome home.
Regina Eustace is a contributing author to the book Divine Inspirations - Stories of Awakening and Empowerment by Everyday Lightworkers.
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