Hello there you wonderful soul 👋
Wherever this finds you, I hope it finds you well. Austin’s weather has cooled off over the past couple weeks and we’re finally breathing that crisp fall air every morning. Happy Scorpio season to those that celebrate.
I’ve been thinking a lot about pain and healing because ten weeks ago, I underwent surgery to remove hemorrhoids. I wasn’t planning on being so open about it, but I’ve learned that hemorrhoid rates are skyrocketing and much more common than you’d expect. Consider this your PSA to spend less time sitting and to breathe through all your workouts.
Anyway, the first couple weeks after surgery were brutal. Easily the worst pain I’ve ever endured. It felt like my body wasn’t mine anymore. I was just a shell of a human setting alarms around the clock to ensure I didn’t miss any doses of my six prescriptions.
I wore diapers out of an abundance of caution. My body did things on its own without consulting me. I frequently closed my eyes during sitz baths and wondered if all this was worth it. Maybe I should’ve accepted its ever-presence for the rest of my life like so many other people I’ve talked to.
Here’s the thing…
Were the first few weeks after surgery brutal? Absolutely. But here I am 10 weeks later, almost pain free. This morning I did my first strength training class since last year and my body actually held up!
So compared to the year I spent before surgery feeling incapable of fully participating in my body, the surgery and pain were absolutely worth it.
Did I enjoy the pain required to undergo and heal from surgery? Absolutely not. But was it necessary to finally move my life forward and reintegrate my mind with my body? Definitely.
It turns out this lesson shows up everywhere in life.
To even have a chance to heal… fully heal… we have to hurt. Nature teaches us that strengthening a muscle requires the initial muscle fibers to literally rip so that that they can rebuild stronger than before. Attempting to heal from past traumas still require us to revisit and remember those traumas—often in painstaking detail. Doing something new that grows you still requires the pain of uncertainty, doubt, and imposter syndrome.
I know that in today’s world, it can feel like all we ever do is hurt. Heck, many of us feel like we’ve only known a lifetime of hurt.
Maybe, just maybe… the fact that you’re still here is the proof that you’re already healing. That you’re enduring when so many others couldn’t. That, as stormy as it is, you’re still putting one step in front of the other without getting washed away by the pressure of life. That is worth celebrating.
After all, you are a human being. You come from a long line of ancestors that adapted to everything life threw at them. Ancestors that endured a quality of life that most of us only read about in history books. Ancestors that couldn’t even imagine the technology you’re using to read or listen to this post. Whether they survived nature, warfare, illness, famine, or all of the above—you come from them and are just as capable. Just as hard-wired for growth and adaptation. Just as resilient and gritty. I know that’s hard to believe when we spend our days with algorithms that make us feel less-than, but it’s the real, honest truth.
When viewed from that lens, life is currently teaching us endurance. It’s growing our collective ability to adapt and step forward. To take control of the things we can, and inspire others for the things we can’t.
I know that feels kumbaya. Like wishful thinking. And maybe it is.
But I ask myself this: if pain isn’t seen through this lens, then what other perspectives would actually help right now? Apathy and escapism have their place but they don’t ultimately move our life forward. You know what does move our life forward? Taking whatever next step the day requires… imperfections and all.
Have a great week.
With sonder 🤟
Ruben
