Pain and fear

 Such amazing things, how they warp the mind and redirect the spirit towards suffering so easily. 

I’ve had back pain for a few days. I should take more Advil so I can sleep tonight.  

Makes me so aware of my mortality. I feel like an old man. Achy. I feel ill. And the feelings lead to fears, and the fears quickly to a story in which this pain remains, and leads to feeling incapable, and leads to the inevitable, and leads to giving up hope. 

It should lead to asking for help. Calling in support. Allies. Instead I fantasize about secret checks being mailed out from my life insurance. It should lead to a renewing idea of surviving and thriving, instead I picture myself having to go through chemo alone (fears of cancer) because everyone would have to stay away so they don’t give me covid when my immune system is depressed. 

This is really a miserable time to be alive. 

The last few days I’ve tried to pray for hope and signs that I am on the right track in life. Ask and manifest and all that. Maybe I manifested a challenge, something that forces my ego to give in and recognize I can’t keep doing everything alone, and actually have to put effort into asking for and creating community. I manifested growth? Through pain and fear and suffering?

Difficult times are after all, also opportunities. That’s what I would want to tell others. But I feel kind of hypocritical dreaming of a quick death to spare myself of the challenge. I am not very courageous after all. 

Or maybe it will all go away in the next few days, and I’ll forget the opportunity. As I have many times in the past.