I was out running around today and doing my thing, whatever that is. My foot slipped out from under me and I fell. I thought, "Man, I hope I can get up because there is no one around. I'll be eaten by bears. Damn the slippery mud!"
I did get up, of course, and walked myself home thinking, "Hey, this isn't so bad after all!"
So I made some dinner and ate it, too. I watched a bit of a movie and decided that maybe I should put my foot up. I noticed that it felt very good to put my foot up. So I looked at my foot. It was fine. My ankle, however, wasn't looking very pretty. Not pretty at all. It's big, like an elephant ankle. The parts that are bony on my other ankle are fleshy on the offending (offended?) ankle.
This isn't news or anything, but it feels like it: discovering that I have limitations sucks. A lot. Today's limitation only reinforces the constant battle I face everyday. My body isn't perfect. In fact, it is in revolt on many occasions. Have the flu? Have a body that's in revolt. Have asthma? Revolt. Diabetes? You guessed it, revolt. You pick any ailment, any at all, and the body that contains it is in revolt. Ending the revolution results in calming, less strife, less chaos. But the process is often miserable. It can taste like broccoli or make you feel sick to your stomach or make your hair fall out.
When I was in middle school and high school I thought I wanted revolution and intensity.
Turns out that I didn't want the revolution at all. Revolution is scary and painful and big. I just wanted the relief at the end of the fight. I don't think I would have cared for the process at all, not then and not now.
Nevertheless, these processes take place. In the end, after all the dust has settled, there's the calm.
For example, the day I can put weight back on my ankle, oh yes, that's the end of this revolution. I'll feel relieved that I'm all better and I'll feel morally superior because I was being a healthy person when I slipped on the slick. Oh! The struggle was worth it! (or not, in this case)
Still, it's the end of the struggle, not the struggle itself, that makes it feel so valiant. I'll take my victories however they come.
Posted by dotty at May 31, 2005 09:18 PM