Meaning? What's that?

When I was little, I would lie awake in bed and try to imagine the number of people on the earth, or the number of stars in the sky. Both seemed infinite and boggled my too-young mind. I would become depressed about the people - too many of them. How would I be anything but a number? How would I ever mean anything? How would our beautiful home sustain it all? At 11 years of age I was suffering from an existential lack of meaning. My body felt what my mind couldn't comprehend.

In my own way I foresaw the collapse. I felt deeply that things weren't right; that something was seriously wrong. I seemed to be the only one with any concern, so of course I determined that there was something seriously wrong with me. That was my first mistake. Don't let it be yours.

I turned away from this world and I wonder if I'm ready yet to turn back to it. Those people who used to keep me up at night? Well, they've swelled. They've swelled and they've produced and they've consumed. Even though mentally and emotionally and in my soul I turned away; still, physically, I did my part. I am complicit. All of us are guilty. Therefore, all of us are innocent.

I sought solace in anything that would provide momentary relief. My relief was overt, rebellious, in-your-face. Does that mean that your way is any less effective? I don't think so.

FEAR

My fear is a great and dark beast who visits my dreams and stalks my waking hours. I fear many things: death, disease, old age, losing people I love, failure, success, poverty, riches, the past, the future. I try to hide from the beast like a child playing hide-and-seek who thinks he has finally found the one place in all the world where no one can find him. Then he realizes that everyone has stopped looking for him and he is alone and terrified in his hidey-spot, just he and the beast. His frustration grow as he realizes there is no hiding from that which lives inside. So he begins to run as fast and as hard as he can, run like the wind, run like there is no tomorrow, run for your life. Soon his lttle legs are like putty and his lungs can't keep enough air to sustain his flight and he falls exhausted in a heap. He covers his eyes and when he finally gathers the courage to peek through his fingers, the beast is there - calmly waiting, eyelids slowly blinking with patience that knows no bounds, no space, no time. However long it takes the beast will wait. The boy begins to look into those eyes, huge liquid things that suck him in like quicksand. They are his own eyes, a mirror into the unseen depths of that which is he. As he slowly gives himself over to the beast's gaze a wondrous thing happens. The fear dissipates and is replaced by a great joy. Warmth enfolds his being as he is filled with love and a sense of homecoming, of protection and safety. How can this be, he wonders. Is it possible that all the beast ever wanted was his attention, that his acknowledgement was the key to transformation? Still, the boy is exhausted. He falls into a deep and peaceful sleep and when he awakes he thinks he is alone until he realizes that he has a new friend living inside him. And he is not afraid.

Something to Fear but Fear Itself

My ACL reconstruction surgery is scheduled for Friday, February 22nd at 12:00 pm. I had my first pre-surgery physical therapy appointment yesterday afternoon. The surgeon, physical therapist and physician's assistant aren't pulling any punches with me about just exactly how painful this is going to be. I know they're just trying to prepare me, but honestly, it's freaking me out. Apparently the first 48-60 hours after surgery can be pretty excruciating and I am not looking forward to it! It's keeping me awake at night.

Proactively, I can strengthen the muscles around my knee as much as possible before surgery and that will speed recovery time. Proactively, I can take care of myself and maintain a positive attitude and I know that will help. Proactively I can focus on how much better I'll be after the surgery, how I won't have to worry about protecting it so much and how within a year I should be able to do anything I want to - yoga, hike, swim, bike. But right now I am just utterly afraid. And I feel like a 3-year old pitching a tantrum about something she has to do but doesn't want to. I want to stomp my feet (well, the right one anyway), scream and yell that it's not fair!

The worst part is I have two+ more weeks to ponder it, consider how bad it will be, obsess on it, anticipate it and dread it. Or maybe I could use those weeks more constructively. Right now, though, I feel pretty powerless over the thoughts. I'm up for any and all suggestions. And as the day approaches, prayers will be appreciated.