Pain. Fear. Two things that zap the zest right out of you. Or of me. I have had my share of them in the last few days, and for a dozen years, for that matter. I live with chronic pain. I don’t really want to get into that right now. Suffice to say I have had four knee surgeries and I have herniated discs in my cervical spine.

I am not afraid of pain, as such. What I am afraid of is pain that won’t go away. More to the point, I fear the limitations that make me feel fragile, that keep me from doing simple daily things, that make it hard for me to be employed. I have danced all my life, been active and healthy. Now I am healthy, and thank goodness I can walk and I do walk, 2 or 3 miles almost every day, but dancing is barely in my life. And so much else is missing.

I have been dealing with the back pain for several years and have done countless kinds of therapy, both traditional and holistic. I just started with a new physical therapist, and that opened me to hoping again. I hope he can make a real difference. Once you open to hope, then you are vulnerable to disappointment. That is how this game works. Anyway, the first two sessions with this lovely young man gave me an hour of relief, which was amazing. On the third session, he did a little more extensive soft tissue work and gave me one simple exercise. I am disgusted to say that this set me back, once again. I just can’t find a way to get that scapula area to not be reactive to the simplest use, and this makes me crazy.

There is a reason for the overall name of this blog. Keeping my cup half full takes constant effort, intention, reminding. I have to pay attention. If I don’t fill my cup, daily, hourly, I sink. I can’t stop treading water or I will sink. And it isn’t pretty under water. I am not a fish. I need air and sunshine; I need to fly and soar. I need to pay attention to the minutia in my life that holds beauty, friendship, family, moments when I am useful in the world. I bake a lot of goodies, not because I like to eat them but because a) I enjoy the process, and b) I like feeding people. It is a purely positive thing I can do. Tomorrow might be lemon squares.

I don’t cry very often but I did today. A simple act brought on too much pain. And it scares me that I can’t do this normal activity. I feel beaten down. So what did I do? I took a walk, I took pain meds, and turned to friends for comfort. When friends come to me for comfort, it is so easy for me to be gentle and kind. It is so much harder to turn that around and be gentle with the person in the mirror.

A quote from Ruth Beadecker:

I intend to not eat that chocolate cake. I intend to clean my house. I intend to be a better parent. What I intend is the goal. What I do may not live up to what I intended but that doesn’t mean that intentions aren’t important. Without the intention, I could not meet, or, more importantly, even come close, to any of my goals.

I intend to wake up tomorrow and be grateful for my day. I intend to fill my cup with gladness.