Husband ordered the newest Patrick Rothfuss book, which I have been waiting impatiently for for a very long time. When it arrived on Tuesday, I made the mistake of reading the first few sentences. Today, I have finished the book and can now reclaim 100% of my brain for other things, like washing dishes, vacuuming floors, and general housely maintenance that got severely neglected while I lived in Kvothe's world. Sick kids managed to get in the way of my reading or I would have finished the book earlier, and Sophia has had a LOT of days absent from school now, but most of them seem to be doing all right now aside from hacking, asthmatic coughs.
I was thinking about the experience of severe physical pain and how that changes you. I was also thinking that I have experienced severe physical pain but never severe emotional pain -- the kind that can buckle your knees and leave you weeping to the point of exhaustion at odd moments. I have come close a few times and it was mercifully brief, but I know I don't know what that kind of pain truly is. I'm good with missing out on that, of course, but if I ever had to go through it, I was remembering what a friend of mine said after his beloved wife died: that the only way past is through. He said that he has to experience each moment of pain fully because it's the only way he can find a way to the other end, where the pain dulls a bit and he can find joy again.
Strangely, that's often true of physical pain, too. When there is no relief, no way to hide from it, physical pain must also be embraced in order to be controlled and subdued. Oddly, too, the experience can be a blessing after it's over, a crucible of learning.
Phew! Enough of that! I'm not in pain, no. Not even a headache. I was just musing.
2 comments:
I am pretty sure I am allergic to pain. I am blessed that I have not had to endure much of it and, if the Lord doesn't mind, I am fine with keeping it that way!
Great thoughts..
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