Reflections Of A Broken BodyThursday, January 26, 2012
You know when you're busy living the high life, tied by an array of obligations, fun excursions, worldly associations and your 'machine' a.k.a the body is working smoothly, you usually do not even anticipate the blunt and uncaring suddenness of physical dis-ease. Until it gets to you.
The nagging headache that progresses into the onset of a runny nose and scratchy throat. The pinched nerve near your shoulder blades from that less than healthy posture you adopt as you stare into the screen that transforms into a one-sided headache.
Whenever my body starts calling out for my attention, apart from the monthly very feminine affliction, I realize that physical pain even at a level that is not chronic, can present a very humbling insight into the slice of pie that's called the mortal existence.
And I'm the type of person who does not like to be wounded. Well, who does, anyway. But even if it's just a superficial scratch, I'd be moaning about it forever because of my irrational belief that my skin should never ever be split open since I generally tend to be quite OCD about it and refrain from activities that present a likelihood for such things to happen.
But then again, it isn't guaranteed. If it is, then I'm your deity. Well, just kidding. However, when I do acquire cuts; gifts from my hyperactive cats, or a sudden most-hateful trauma succumbed by my little toe due to poor body coordination and a misplaced vengeful door or furniture, I fall into a reflective mode.
And we're not even in the territory of the more significant physical and mental torment caused by diarrhoea and bloating which I bet you've been through, so don't be squeamish now.
The thing is when there's physical pain, there's a window of opportunity for deep reflection and meditation. In my case, my mind naturally starts to trace for the cause of that bodily pain and I make sure to take deep breaths and let the pain take whatever course it wants to take. Once it lets go of its hellish grip on my aging body, I feel like the world's alright again.
My melodrama aside, I'm not talking about diarrhoea, seriously. It's just upper body pain.
Loose stool aside, I'm not sure why I'm sharing this, but I think it's just me taking advantage of the therapeutic effect that comes from keyboard-hitting and the delusional thought that my readers are interested in my meandering chatter about nothing.
The Economy of Pain by Andrew Jones
Strong Woman by Nicole Wong
shanaz@RS | 5:10 AM | Labels: ramble therapy