Hurts So Good.


Occasionally, I get out of bed in the morning and internally groan thinking about the day ahead. I might have autism meetings or a lot of back-to-back classes to teach. Today, I got up and put my feet on the ground and put my back out. Ouch! This isn't a sympathy post though. It is a reminder to myself that when things are going smooth and my health is good (which it usually is from all the running I do), I never fully appreciate it. It's kind of like when you hit your thumb with a hammer or catch it in a door. You don't realize how much you need it until it becomes this throbbing mass at the end of your hand that seems to suck every drop of blood from your beating-on-overtime heart. The simplest of things become borderline impossible. Who knew putting on socks would be the hardest part of the day? I still have to take them off, too. There are so many things I want to do. I want to run, jump, skip and hop, brush my teeth without leaning on the sink, grimacing as toothpaste foam splatters the bathroom mirror through clenched teeth. The most menial becomes the most laborious. I think it boils down to looking at what I have. Even with my dodgy spine, I am still a heap better off than most. My wish is that I will fully give my life, and those around me, the best I possibly can, crooked vertebrae or not. I am fascinated by stories of near-death experiences where the person in question survives a plane crash or an illness and goes on to be an adventurer, artist, a better parent or spouse. Do they always maintain that gusto? Or do they someday slip back into old habits and chalk it down to luck? I want to do awesome today, and everyday, or at least try to. Because I am limited in one way, does not mean I am limited in other ways. And therein lies the beauty. There are no limitations, just unique people everywhere with God-given talents who can change the world, regardless of circumstance. Suddenly my back doesn't feel so bad anymore.