Wednesday, June 18, 2014

Freshly brewed coffee

I think sometimes I am going slightly mad, but I may be forgiven because I have a lot on my plate right now. I am assuming a lot without actually knowing anything and preparing myself for the worst. What sort of condition is that to live under? I wish I could turn back time and start with a clean slate, but if I could do that, I would wish for my body to be clean and whole again. And so I would end up infinitely wishing for something, until I had gone back in time far enough and became unborn, and that is the same thing as dying. Isn't that everyone's final destination? Why should I be different? 

The new pain medication is not working as well as I had hoped and that is a bit of a disappointment. I think I am just going to have to get used to the fact that I have pain. I will always be in search of the most comfortable position, but not be able to find it. That is an excellent metaphor for life. Looking for comfort and never being able to quite find it for a long enough time, but being awfully happy for those short times when I do. That is the the way I have experienced life anyway. Life has been lived on a slant with many ups and downs. I will make sure I sit on top of the hill at the end. 

I am speaking prematurely again and have no business to. It is like I am full of premonitions. The potential outcome would be easier to ignore if it were not for the pain. That is the thing that is hardest to ignore. 

I suppose that I feel the urge to write a lot in order to share my thoughts because there is comfort in that. Especially when I sit here in the middle of the night and all is quiet. I still am ready for whatever kind of day is ahead and have not stopped feeling the excitement that comes with that. Everything is still possible and the possibilities are still (in a way) endless. The fat lady has not sung yet. 

1 comment:

Connie Rose said...

I'm so glad Chuck is there with you now. I'm so sorry you're in near-constant pain...but you're right, it is a perfect metaphor for life itself. Life is all about suffering, in one way or another. We have to create our own happiness despite what we're given to deal with every day-every year. Much love to you, my friend. xoxo