No pain no gain?

Today I woke up around 6 and decided to take the pup for a run. I usually do this about once or twice a week because he doesn’t really enjoy running as much as you would expect a dog to.

This mornings run was just like any other, defined by: humid air, beauty, endorphins, constant encouragement from me to Shanti to keep up the pace, and more than a few flat tires from my furry friend.

However, as we got closer to the end of the run, and we began to slow our pace I began to realize how different this mornings run was from any other day. It hit me like a ton of bricks to the face, so hard that I had to stop for a minute to take it all in, to allow the corners of my mouth to spread into a grin, and to bask in the beauty of the moment.

Today was the first day since I can remember that I have been able to run (or even walk for that matter) with no pain or discomfort. While this may not seem like a big deal to the average person, it is HUGE for me.

Chronic pain is probably difficult for someone who has never experienced it to understand.. So let me put it into perspective for you.

Every year my aunt Mindy and uncle Rob rent the same beach house in Wilmington. The house is right on the water and their kids, (my cousins), myself and a few others all meet in  for a week or two of “beach week”. I am so fortunate for this special time with my family, and I am eternally grateful towards my Aunt and Uncle for keeping such a beautiful tradition alive.

This year was like any other.. Except this year, both my cousin (and one of my best friends) Jesse and I were both coming back from recent adventures in Asia and per usual couldn’t wait to immerse ourselves back into beach life, family and healthy food.

I was taking a chance this year coming by to beach week. I had been experiencing lots of issues concerning my disease, was in severe pain and discomfort and was at a place where I had to make a huge decision about what to do in terms of how I was going to treat myself. Was I going to take the short, easy, Western way of doing things and put myself back on the toxic medication that had previously allowed me to live remission. Or, was I going to take a chance, go against the advice of every doctor I had ever seen and try to heal myself through diet, exercise and natural remedies.

At this point I had been walking through each day with the weight of a sumo wrestler on my heart. Every step was difficult both physically and emotionally. With everything I did there was always a chance that I wouldn’t be able to take the pain, discomfort or emotional burden any more, and that I would collapse. And I did.

It was after my cousin, her friends from France, her childhood best friend and I all went out for a ride on the boat. We had a beautiful ride with a nice balance between both going fast, crashing over waves and giving into nature by turning off the engine and allowing the waves to take us wherever their heart desired.

I had to lay down for the boat trip in it’s entirety because I was in such discomfort, and so ashamed that I couldn’t bring myself to stand, or even sit up.

When we got back to the dock I stood up to get off and lost my balance. Frustrated with myself, I grabbed the rail and tried to get off the boat. I was able to get off, but it took so much effort and involved so much discomfort that I almost gave in right then and there.

To be unable to get in and out of a boat with out pain and discomfort crushed me.

I’ve always had to live with the pain and discomfort, but I think sometimes I forget what it’s like to be “normal” until something like this happens. And when it does, it hits me…hard.

I am more times than not in pain or discomfort, and constantly aware of how I’m feeling. I try not to let on how much it all affects me, but sometimes it gets so hard that I have to speak up; to ask my mom to slow down as we walk, or to ask my friend to help me up the stairs at Red Rocks. I think this part is harder for me than the actual pain. I hate feeling weak and having to ask others to change the pace of their lives, consequently restricting themselves for my sake. This makes me feel so divided, but mostly dispirited with myself because of the inability to do things that a person my age should be able to do with ease.

So next time you get frustrated with your friend for walking slowly, for your dog not being able to keep up, for your teammate not being able to complete something I urge you to slow down, and take a minute to step back. Before you react, ask yourself why this person is unable, or is having difficulty doing something. Most times you’ll find that people don’t do things on purpose. Everyone has battles, and everyone has demons. Why should we bring each other down when we have the ability lift each other up?

Live in oneness, be aware of each others struggle(s), support one another, and spread love. We only get one life, let’s live it beautifully… together.

My tension Intention

Naked and exposed I plug in my headphones and turn on the beautiful bliss that is Ludovico Einaudi. His brilliant compositions allowing me to tune out the world and tune into myself.

When beginning situations, meditations, experimentation with drugs, or really anything in life with intentions it allows the possibility of completely changing the whole experience. So I decide to set an intention for my massage, to make it into a meditation and create a space that would allow unconscious aspects of myself to surface.

I focus on my breath, but I also make my mind into a sort of screen, allowing observation of each ephemeral thought as it passes through my mind, and I give in.

“Erm, excuse me miss… miss… can you flip over?” says the masseuse. I open my eyes and blink. Hard. I had forgotten where I was for a second. It takes me a minute, but I realize that I am still at the spa. I flip over and place my hands over my eyes, firmly pressing down on them in order to bring myself back to the present moment. My meditation took me to another place, another level of consciousness that I have never experienced before. I focus back on my breath to calm myself down, the massage continues, and the resonances of Ludovico take me back again. To where that was, I am still somewhat unsure.

Tension defined the 60 minutes of my massage, and the distinct memory of it has continually replayed in my mind ever since. As the masseuse kneaded her hands into my back I could feel the presence of tightness more than ever. Her hands felt like they had the weight of the world in them and my back was the strongest and most impenetrable force pushing back. No matter how hard she pushed, my muscles would not release.

This tension is almost always present in my neck, back and shoulders. I usually chalk it off to not exercising or stretching enough. A stiffness that’s caused by my shitty posture and my large, and extremely inconvenient rack. However, the images moving across the screen (my mind) conveyed to me that the physical feeling that was manifesting as a stiffness in my back, neck and shoulders was merely a secondary aspect of what was going on.

The mind is a powerful tool, and as humans I think we give it too much credit. We allow it to constantly be at work, to analyze, define and dictate our lives. I am a huge culprit of this. This causes us to always be thinking of the past or the future, thus forgetting the most important thing for us to be aware of, the present.

Some deep and introspective reflection after my massage, has helped me to realize that I must relax. Slow down, and not think too deeply into things. Everything will happen the way it’s supposed to, and worrying about the future or the past will not make things any different. I must remain present.

Alan Watts transcribes this idea perfectly in his book, The Wisdom of Insecurity :

“The power of memories and expectations is such that for most human beings the past and the future are not as real, but more real than the present. The present cannot be lived happily unless the past has been “cleared up” and the future is bright with promise. There can be no doubt that the power to remember and predict, to make an ordered sequence out of the helter skelter chaos of disconnected moments is a wonderful development of sensitivity. In a way it is the achievement of the human brain, giving man the most extraordinary powers of survival and adaptation to life. But the way in which we generally use this power is apt to destroy all it’s advantages. For it is of little use to us to be able to remember and predict if it makes us unable to live fully in the present.”

I am still not completely aware of what my meditation was trying to reveal to me, however I think I am getting closer and closer to what I must know. For now, I am happy with the realization that I must be present. Everyone has, and could tell me this a million times. However, I needed to realize it for myself, to experience the overwhelming weight associated with not doing so in order to fully understand how truly important being present really is.