Maybe a blog post will come today, I suddenly thought. I am sitting here by my window in a rehabilitation center close to the hospital.
Last week I started daily radiation treatments of the brain. From yesterday, radiation of the tailbone and hip was included into the schedule.
The view from my window is beautiful over Mjøsa, the largest lake in Norway. My mattress is soft and good. The pelvis, hips and legs have been in quite some pain, I have difficulty to walk. I have increased the painkillers and I am kinder to myself; I take the extra morphine when I need it, I take my space with all I need of pillows for the taxi rides.
I am experiencing that life can be perfectly complete inside a fragile body. It is not much that I need.
The body needs care, it needs comfort and pain relief. But except from this, life is very simple.
I walk as slow as I need. I do what I want to do.
I don’t want to do what I am not capable of doing. That is the key.
In some moments I have felt the link to the body so weak, almost not there. When I am only breath.
Other times I wake up with more strength, more energy – even creative ideas. Some times I search online, shopping colorful things for my house. My eyes are limited, but I do still appreciate beauty and colors around me. A feeling of embracing life, being whole in life.
Life is unpredictable. Moment by moment. Day by day.
I am taking cortisone now during the period of radiation treatment. Together with the painkillers and the treatment itself – it creates different phenomena in the body. The heartbeat. The pulsation. The influence of the sleep.
It is all part of the moment, of the experience of Now. I see I can simply allow it to be included. I feel there is no need to fight it, reject it or think it should be different. It is as it is.
A presence is here that can watch it, that is untouched by it. It carries with it a gift; to have the chance to experience in such a concrete way that I am not the body, I am not the phenomena happening to the body. There is love and silence here, vaster than it all.
It doesn’t feel so important in this moment – if I live in a healthy and active body – or if I live in a fragile and handicapped one. Life is beautiful – under my own skin and eyelids –
and when I open my eyes too.
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