Sunday, August 10, 2014


This blank screen has been staring at me all evening. Well, I have switched to other things, gotten some important things done in the meantime, but I keep coming back to this page. I need to write. I need it because the going got tough today. I want to write inspiring things, I want to feel optimistic, and give out good vibes through my writing. When I don't have that, when the optimism doesn't push it's way past sadness, that is when I often need to write. I want to push through the sadness, wring it out of my veins with writing. When I can't walk, and I feel unrelenting pain, this screen is always there, opening up to me. This screen can hold my words and deliver them.

From an outsider's point of view, it looked like I had a normal, nice Shabbat. We had a one of Shifra's friends at dinner with us on Friday night (and another guy who floats in sometimes on Friday nights, without warning), and 6 other guests at lunch. It's nice to host, I enjoy conversation.

I don't even feel I can write now what I want to write. These guests read my blogs. I don't want anyone to think that they are causing me any hardship. That's not the case; I need people in our lives. After all, people need human connections for their souls. God wants us all here to connect to each other, to touch each other. Life without Shabbat guests would be very isolating.

What I want to say is that except for the meals when I came alive and looked normal, I was in So. Much. Pain. today. I couldn't make it to shul (synagogue) even though there were many reasons I wanted to be there. Old friends in from out-of-town who I was hoping to see, and to be there to invite people who may not have had a meal plan with other people (our shul has a rotation for families to take in newcommers and others who don't have a meal set up for them, and this was our week). I knew, though, that if I walked to shul and back, I'd use up my allotment of steps I was given for that day. Some days I have a limited allotment of steps, and it's up to me to plan them out well.

The meals went well, we all enjoyed each other.
I really was hoping to go visit these out-of-town friends (and in-town friends also, who were all together today) this afternoon. Instead, I needed to rest in bed. Why in bed? Well, I need to be in a laying-down position for my hips to have real relief. Our couches aren't comfortable enough for me to rest in them. Anyway, when I am in pain, it is often accompanied by a desperate need for quiet, so the living room isn't usually the place for that.

Life is better with choices.
With pain, though, the choices get very narrow.
I didn't get to make the social call I was hoping to make this afternoon. That made me sad.

I know I've said this before, and it's no less true now... I still can't believe that this is *me*. That these changes have happened, and my choices have narrowed. That's really what it is. Sometimes people say to me that they'd love to have a day to rest, or that if I need to be in bed, than that is what my body is telling me, and to honor that. But what it is, and why these comments miss their mark, is because I don't have a choice. Pain takes away choice. These times I need to be in bed are sad and often isolating. Nobody feels good when they are in pain, or so inordinately exhausted that getting out of bed isn't an option. Is this really Sarah? Where's my vibrancy? I'm not a horn player any more, I'm not being a doula. Do I have a purpose in this world, other than to bring up my children (which I can do while working at a career, too)? Is getting through each day enough? What whirlwind took me away and deposited this one instead? Sometimes I have referred to myself here as "Sarah, prototype 2", meaning better, improved. Sometimes I don't believe that at all.

But, there are these times....

me & my little guy chillin'
Azriel couldn't resist taking pictures of me jumping!

This was a month ago... hard to resist the trampoline!

Boy, did I pay for it later, but it was fun.

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