What is pain? Might pain be a reminder to us that we are simply human? Might pain be a way to force us to slow down? Might pain be God's way of getting our attention?
There are so many kinds of pain. Pain in our bodies, in our hearts, in our minds. Pain that cries out loudly demanding that we notice it and address it. Pain that whimpers quietly in some corner reluctant to take centrestage and yet ever present in its persistence.
Pain can be deeply visceral, or remotely peripheral, and either way it calls out constantly. Hear me, feel me, acknowledge me; I am real. Out of desperation we seek to dumb it down, to numb it, to escape from it and even deny it, because pain is simply too painful.
But what if pain wasn't something to escape but something to embrace? What if when pain floods our nerves and senses and we feel overwhelmed, that pain can teach us something? Lessons in our mere mortality can be best learnt when our bodies are under threat or attack. Pain can slow us down and force us to think about our lives, what they mean, and the meaning we want to make of our lives. When you're forced to rest your body but your brain keeps going then maybe reflection can take place, and with it, a revelation of meaning and purpose in life may come.
With chronic illness the threat or attack to the body is a constant one. To live in a continual, heightened state of battle readiness, fighting forays against a perceived enemy, experiencing the wounds of hurt, pain, loss, grief and anger, one could easily feel trapped in a depressing cycle.
What choice is there, then, but to embrace every aspect of chronic illness, including the pain, so one can find a way to live peacably with it? How paradoxical it must seem to be fighting a battle against illness, and yet being forced to accept it so one can live sanely. That's the constant balance required, between fighting and accepting.
Those whose bodies are healthy can never truly understand that tension because for them the choices are easier. It's about maximising every minute in some economically measurable, productive way that is quite possibly the opposite of reflecting while resting in pain. Somehow, I think we only really come to a place of reflecting and seeking meaning and peace in life when we realise we are in some kind of pain. If we are honest and face up to the reality of our ever present pain, no matter what form it takes and which part of us hurts, we will realise that our pain is calling us to rest and to reflect.
For the chronically ill, hurting physically easily leads to hurting on other levels of being and the pain multiplies over and over. Pain is a constant and unwelcome companion that we somehow learn to live with. In fact, many chronically ill people remain cheerful in the midst of their suffering.
People often remark on my cheerfulness. What other choice is there for me? To be anything but cheerful is to begin to lose the ongoing battle against illness, and to fail to truly and graciously accept it and its limitations. To be less than cheerful is to place a heavy burden on those around us who may not understand or be able to help us. To be cheerless is to give in to self pity, and to deny the will of God that allows pain and suffering in my life. I have no choice but to be as cheerful as I can, because nobody else is responsible for the joy I find in my own life.
Often, nobody really understands the impact of chronic illness until one has it themselves. That's life. As is the constant presence of pain, in some form or other. All part and parcel of life. May we listen to our pain and respond to its call to rest and reflect and find meaning in our sufferings, whatever they may be. May we face our pains head on in the search for meaning, and not choose to escape from them. May we embrace the will of God, that for reasons unknown to us, allows pain to draw us closer to Him.
Thank you, God, even for my pain, and may I draw strength from you as I rest and reflect. May your peace descend upon me as I find that balance between fighting and acceptance, and may I remain ever grateful, even for pain.
Thanks for reading,
Pav
19 hours ago
