I considered the concept when I sprained my foot that everything happens for a reason. I don't believe that. I think there's cause and consequence AND that everything significant has meaning. It's the difference between blind faith and a conscious choice to believe.
I didn't cry because it hurts. The foot, that is. I wanted to, but I'm distracted by something going on in the pit of my stomach. I kept asking the question, "why?". I'm on vacation and it's wonderful and everything I want it to be. And then this happens. Why? While I don't believe that everything happens for a reason, I believe wholeheartedly in symbolism. There had to be something this connected to inside. Aside from my lack of athletic skill. There are crazy random happenstances, and then there are, this can't be a crazy random happenstance happenstances.
And then it hit me.
I had kind of realized it yesterday when talking with a friend about an area of my hurt in the relationship. I told her how my main concern seems to be figuring out ways to avoid getting hurt. No sporting, cliff jumping, trusting or risk taking for me.
When I chose to play basketball with my brother, which is something I wouldn't normally do (see above reference to lack of athletic skill), I created one of the best memories I've ever shared with him. But then I fell and sprained my foot. Kinda ruins the vibe, right?
After hours of pain, however, laying on the comfy bed in the comfy apartment in the middle of the comfy colorful woods of the Poconos, I realized that this was about so much more than my surface issue of mild clumsiness. It's about that defensiveness (coincidentally, I was playing defense in the game. oh life, you're laughing) that I've been confusing with protection. I realized the symbolism.
And I cried. For like, 5 seconds.
And then I swallowed some pain pills. Somehow, I felt the job was done.
Here I was, enjoying a simple pleasure, feeling secure & in control, and something completely unexpected happened ANYWAY. I fell and got hurt anyway. I was in the moment, actively participating in sensation, and something painful happened. I couldn't stop it, couldn't prevent it. The only way I could've done that was to not be engaged in the first place.
I keep myself sedate so that I won't feel anything intense. I don't feel joy. I don't feel heartache. Sure, I feel a vague vibration of these emotions- excitement and anger or a numb kind of sadness. But I don't FEEL the root, the actual pain or pleasure. Doesn't mean it doesn't exist. If a tree falls and no one hears it, it still makes a sound.
Cause: playing basketball clumsily. Consequence: a painful sprained foot.
Significant event. Meaning? The epiphany that no matter how defensive I am, how cautiously I tread, life will happen anyway. I'm coming to realize, or believe (because it is a matter of perspective) that there can be no pleasure without pain. And if I do everything I can to avoid the latter, doesn't it then follow that I'm also avoiding the possibility of the former?
“It’s so hard to forget pain, but it’s even harder to remember sweetness. We have no scar to show for happiness. We learn so little from peace.”~ Chuck Palahniuk
So here's the question: what depth do I desire from life? Really though, that's not even the question. I know I want all the transcending passion life has to offer. The questions really go something like this: Would I rather have a painless foot or the memories? Well, there are pills for the pain. The moments are priceless.
