Many walking wounded (or rolling, as the case may be) are among us. Buddhism teaches that pain is inevitable in life, but suffering is optional. A primary lesson the Buddha taught is that pain + resistance = suffering. It’s not the easiest concept to digest when you or someone you love is in pain. It can begin at birth with a slap on the bum from a friendly doctor or birth attendant. One minute you’re floating in a warm, comfortable sea of fluid, and the next thing you know you’re being squeezed through a narrow opening out into a very bright, noisy, and wide open space. The boundaries of the life you’ve known are suddenly gone, and you find yourself pinwheeling your arms and legs through open space. I had one child in a hospital with a midwife, and watching him go through the free fall that birth in a medical facility can be convinced me to have my other two children at home in a deep, warm pool of water. (I’ll be honest, it made it a lot nicer for me too!) It was, and still is, a controversial decision, but that isn’t what this post is about. A physician named Michel Odent (www.birthworks.org/site/primal-health-research.html) and countless midwives {including a saint of a woman named Ina Mae Gaskin (www.inamay.com) and my personal heroine, Ginger Breedlove, (www.kcfree.org/profiles/volunteer-stories/Ginger–Breedlove )} can address that issue with much more authority than I.
I’ve posted about pain before and with my new job will probably continue to. The reason it is so present in my mind and heart today is because of my husband, Kevin, who I adore. For close to a year now he has woken up in the early morning hours, (3:00, 4:00, and so on) in such intractable pain that he cannot get back to sleep. He’s spent years learning his own body, and because of that he can give me ideas to help his pain become bearable. I am a Certified Reiki 1 practitioner, (thank you Amy Rowland www.traditionalreiki.com/) and have given Kevin some treatments that have helped. Even when I’m not using Reiki though, the training Amy gave me helps me to connect with spirit. Kevin had a number of spinal surgeries as a child, and the scars and nerve injuries he was left with are unique. He has a long-term relationship with severe discomfort, and in the darkness of pre-dawn, I can feel his restless movements when the pain has interrupted his sleep again. He can usually coach me on what to do and where to do it, whether it’s scratching, pushing on pressure points, or having me push my fingernails into his scar tissue, leaving half-moon shapes etched in a chain up his back. It is one of the most intimate parts of our marriage and brings up myriad emotions. I feel privileged, and humbled that he trusts me enough to share this with me. I feel a deep joy that is indescribable when he sighs or groans in relief, letting me know I’ve “hit the spot.” The best part of all is when there is still time to hold him or be held by him and feel his body relax, hear his breathing as he settles back into sleep and know that I’ve played a small part in helping that happen. It is not easy being that vulnerable to another person, especially when you are a strong, independent man used to taking care of yourself. It is one of the most precious gifts he gives me, a testament of his love that brings tears to my eyes.
It doesn’t last that long, unfortunately, but he doesn’t hold that against me. He is willing to let me try again when I can convince him that he’s not depriving me of anything I need. Every moment of that time is a living prayer from me that the mystery of healing will somehow come through my hands and give him some measure of relief. It is so hard to stay physically open to other people, especially if you have “differences” that make you stand out from others, real or perceived. We don’t know why healing happens in some cases and not others. It is still a mystery to healers of all varieties. In those moments my husband and I share, there is no question that healing occurs for me. It is my hope and prayer that it provides some healing for him as well. May you allow yourself to give and receive healing today, and every day. Namaste’.
An Unexpected Life 