“Live life in radical amazement. Take nothing for granted. Everything is phenomenal; never treat life casually. To be spiritual is to be amazed.” Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel
The words of the legendary rabbi and scholar who was also a social justice activist, ring true for me, even in the midst of feeling burned out, fried, experiencing what I call ‘tater tot syndrome’. There are days when I imagine myself as a crispy friend piece of potato, waiting to be devoured by life. For the past few days, I have nursed a whopper of an occipital headache that is a side effect of a neck strain. Seems I overdid it on the rowing machine at the gym, and pulled my neck as tight as a rubber band. The sensation radiates up into my cranium. At the moment, Toradol (an anti-inflammatory) and an ice pack are doing their part to ease the pain and inflammation. It is at level 7 when it was 10 yesterday. I have a high threshold for pain.
Good recovering workaholic that I am, I had let things fester for a few days, while keeping on keeping on with caring for my grandchildren in the morning, seeing clients and tending to other responsibilities. Yesterday, after going with my daughter-in-law and grandkiddos Dean and Lucy, to see the Easter Bunny and then hanging out for a few more hours, the pain got almost unbearable. My son convinced me to let my daughter-in-law drive me to urgent care and then he would pick me up after work. Grateful for Medicare that took care of my care. I paid 78 cents for a prescription. After x rays, which indicated the aforementioned strain, I was given two shots in the tush, one of Flexiril and one of Toradol…YIKES! I was grateful when my son pulled up at the curb in the midst of a drizzle about to turn into heavier rain. I knew I couldn’t safely get home on my own and was going to stay over at their house. He reminded me that I probably wouldn’t get much sleep there since Dean and Lucy are early risers. He took me home, with the plan to drive back with Lauren and the kids today as my car returned to my driveway. That they did and I had a bit of grandkiddo therapy as they pulled out my game of Twister and my daughter-in-law cautioned me not to play, since I could worsen my injury. I heeded her advice. Dean (4 years old) and Lucy (22 months) headed over to my drums and other assorted percussion instruments and gave us an impromptu concert. Short attention span that they have, Dean asked my son Adam to take the mini trampoline/rebounder out so he and Lucy could bounce. Dean then grabbed the large exercise ball and began rolling around on it, practicing his karate kicks with it. I commented that this should tire themselves out enough for a nap and my daughter-in-law and son rolled their eyes as if I should know better.
Watching them swimming in joy and laughter helped to reduce the pain further. As much as I dislike the way my body has not been doing what I ask of it, keeping up with the demands of the day, I can experience radical amazement at what it is still capable of. I rest when I can, as I took a two hour nap in between starting and now completing this article. Listening to The Pretenders singing Middle of the Road and remembering when this song played in a Jazzercise class I took a few decades ago and we did high kicks to it. These days, the kicks would be a lot lower with a decreased intensity.
I am radically amazed with the blessings of loving family and friends, of the comfy bed in which I napped, the music that is wafting through the air, that I have work I find gratifying and satisfying, the creature comforts I enjoy and the opportunity to be of service because I can.
It is a beautiful day, in the midst of the pain.
—
This Post is republished on Medium.
—
Photo credit: Unsplash
