December 8--On the Other Side, I Hope

The dark night is a profoundly good thing. It is an ongoing spiritual process in which we are liberated from attachments and compulsions and empowered to live and love more freely. Sometimes this letting go of old ways is painful, occasionally even devastating. But this is not why the night is called “dark.” The darkness of the night implies nothing sinister, only that the liberation takes place in hidden ways, beneath our knowledge and understanding. It happens mysteriously, in secret, and beyond our conscious control.  --Gerald May

    The whole sciatica thing I have been through this year has most assuredly been a "dark night." I'm not quite at the point of it being a "profoundly good thing." However, "in hidden ways, beneath our knowledge and understanding," certainly applies. Pain takes one to that place. 

    I've been through months of physical therapy (4 sessions to go!), and I have approached it all, until recently, as the process of fixing something, getting me back to where I was before all this landed on me. It finally dawned on me, mysteriously, that this is it. This is how my body works moving forward. I don't have the impeccable balance I once had. My left foot's fallen arch has made my left foot almost an inch longer than my right foot, which will make shoe-shopping quite the adventure. My stamina has a long way to go, especially regarding walking, but I can now walk limp-free without a cane. My body is stiff until it gets moving, but I have minimal pain, for which I am ever so thankful. Maybe it's an acceptance of "this is my aging body." Maybe I'm just weary of demanding that my body do more than it is currently capable of. In any case, there is an element of liberation and peace, and that is "a profoundly good thing." 

    Living is interesting. Keep moving.

        Leta