Ouch - OK, Bless That
I hurt my back on Saturday. New house, new vegetable garden. We have a nice sunny spot right next to the garage, but it’s sloped. Carl was working on digging post holes for the fence to keep out the deer. I was moving dirt to make it all a little flatter. I wasn’t being particularly careful with my 57-year-old body.
I figured I would be sore the next day. But when I woke up Sunday, oh boy, the pain was severe. I pulled some muscle in my core and it made all movement difficult, from getting out of bed to pulling up my socks, to opening my car door. Even now days later it still hurts. I know it will get better, but I’m not sure how long that will take.
I reach for an oven mitt on the back of the kitchen counter and “OUCH,” the muscle twinges. I bend over to put Felix on his leash and “OUCH,” the muscle twinges. I sigh. I grimace. I scold my Saturday-afternoon-self that didn’t take better care as I shoveled and tossed what must have been tons of dirt. OK, maybe “tons” is an exaggeration. But I am still angry at myself.
And a small voice in my heart whispers, “You have to bless that.”
“What?” I respond to myself, “No. Why should I bless this nagging pain that makes everything harder?”
Why, indeed? Why bless the pain?
As a ritualist, blessings are part of my daily work. They are tiny rituals, but they are emotionally powerful. There are the big, formal blessings at weddings and funerals. We also bless the arrivals of babies, new houses, and even puppies. And every culture I have researched employs the language of blessing. And you find them in every corner of the world. People use them to invoke God’s favor, to request protection from evil, and to make something holy.
That last one, the making something holy, is the meaning that resonates most with me. When I think of blessing something, it brings up feelings of gratitude, hope and reverence. If I say grace before a meal – even if it’s a moment’s thought, I am noting my appreciation for those who grew, transported, and made the food. I hope they are well and that the food nourishes my body. And through that I can see how I’m connected as part of this amazing web of people, plants and animals that keeps us all alive. That brief revelation certainly feels reverent.
“Gratitude bestows reverence.....changing forever how we experience life and the world.”
― John Milton
OK, that sounds lovely. But bless my back pain? Come on!
I know it’s pretty counterintuitive. And I’m not sure I could use this spiritual tool for a truly dire health crisis. But this is more of an annoyance pain. And it is perfect for blessing.
What am I blessing, exactly? Not the actual spasm of pain I experience. I am no masochist. Instead, I bless the reminder of how my body works, how delicately all the parts are connected. And most of all, I am taking account of how easily I forget how good it feels when everything is working together properly. Good health always seems to run on in the background, never calling attention to itself.
This idea echoes a line from Alexandre Dumas’s The Count of Monte Cristo. “Those who have been tossed on the stormy waters of the ocean on a few frail planks can alone realize the blessings of fair weather.” Most days the weather is fair. Most days, thankfully, I do not have pain. But I do not want to take that for granted.
I want to take that moment of pain as I pull up my socks and remember that usually it is easy and that I will be healed again. I want to remind myself to appreciate that ease. And finally, I also want to remind myself clearly that someday, if I am lucky enough to get old, pain will be more prevalent than ease – and that I will handle that, too, with gratitude.
The wording of the blessing is still a work in progress. But I am thinking of something like this: “Blessed are you, little storm clouds, that reminds me of the sun behind you.”
Or something like that. And that reminder transforms the painful pulling up of socks into a tiny moment of sanctity. I am grateful and aware that I am part of this amazing web of life.
Playing with words, creating language to make the ordinary sacred is one of my great joys. If you would like to work on ways to enhance your everyday spirituality, you can contact me at celebrationism1@gmail.com.
I will also be running a two-part workshop on creating a bravery ritual at the Pitman Wellness Community, Thursday, April 20 and 27. 7 to 8:30PM Spaces are limited.
