Every day requires making a decision to move toward light and healing.
Prior to the events that led to the development of chronic pain and hypersensitivity in my body, I characteristically would wake up with a bounding spirit, bouncing out of bed and jumping vivaciously into my day.
Nowadays I generally wake up tired, in pain, stiff, and somewhat or very depressed. I have to remind myself every morning that I have the skills and tools to pull myself out of the funk and discomfort and have a radically different experience during the course of the day.
This morning, for example, I woke up frustrated that I could not wake up early enough or move quickly enough to get to synagogue. It feels important to me to start going to services again, after having stopped for many years, for various reasons.
Instead of sinking into despair about how challenging it is for me to do something so simple, I offered myself compassion and understanding, and I gave myself permission to move slowly and take care of my body today. I assured myself that if I continue setting my mind to attending services, it will happen eventually, even if it takes months to rework my sleeping and waking patterns on the weekend (being that I need about two hours to get going in my day).
I also reminded myself that yesterday, despite my ankle pain, I was safely bouncing around my living room, dancing to music. The music, I assured myself, similarly can transport me again today and leave me feeling terrific. I just have to do my morning routine.
What’s more, while this ankle pain and jacked-up levels of pain on the right side of my head are making it challenging, if not impossible, for me to be in groups at the moment (like the drumming circle I really want to attend this afternoon); and while I desperately feel the need to be out in the world — making friends and building community, I also assured myself that there may be physically safe, low-key social options for me to discover.
Even if I can’t be around people at all today; even if it takes me months to get back to where I was before the whole ankle incident happened; and even if I’m lonely in the meantime, I will focus on what I can do — filling up that space with love, light, and healing. It is a decision.