Using Pain to Improve Life

Since my last post my life has taken a turn for the unexpected. I developed a literal pain in the butt that extends from the cheek down to the calf. Ouch!! Boy does it hurt. Hurts to sit, stand, and walk, which leaves lying down, but I can’t afford to do that all day, so I sit, stand, and walk, wincing (gasping) all the way.

After checking to ensure that a pinched nerve or my back isn't somehow involved, my doctor prescribed a powerful anti-inflammatory and some exercises. There’s no quick fix for this, and the pain wears me down by the end of the day. The silver lining is that I’m using the pain as motivation to work on some areas in my life. 

First, I figure that the body has an enormous capacity to heal itself as long as it’s not sabotaged. I’m helping by eating as healthily as I know how, with plenty of food high in antioxidants and anti-inflammatory properties. Guided by George Mateljan’s The World’s Healthiest Foods, an “essential guide for the healthiest way of eating,” I am learning the health properties of different foods and the best way to select, store, prepare, and cook them. 

Anti-inflammatory foods and herbs include salmon, tuna, and shellfish, pineapples, papayas, olives, garlic, ginger, and turmeric. There are others, but that’s where I’m starting. Yesterday for lunch Kat and I ate avocado halves sprinkled with lemon juice and stuffed with tuna salad (a recipe from the book). Tasty! 

Second, having this grinding, relentless pain actually helps with my mindfulness practice. Sometimes the pain overwhelms, and I have to stop and just breathe deeply. I try to follow the advice in the book to focus on breath and welcome any discomfort or pain instead of fighting it. It’s not easy, and it doesn’t always help, but most of the time it seems to. It keeps me from panicking anyway. Anxiety magnifies pain, and to the extent that mindfulness practice diffuses anxiety, it helps.

Third, I am forced to practice patience. Not a virtue of mine, but one I want to cultivate. The healing process takes time. I can eat all the right foods, exercise diligently, and take my meds, but I can’t force the pain away or hurry the healing process.  Impatience — when will this pain end? — like anxiety, just makes it worse. 

So there it is. I wrote most of this while standing at our kitchen island, and finished it off sitting at my desk. My new life for a while. I hope that when this chapter of life draws to a close, I will have acquired or deepened a few good habits.