Sometimes I write more for my own edification and to process things than for my eclectic audience of readers throughout the world. This is one of those cases, so it may or may not be entertaining or even worthwhile reading for you, my dear reader.
I continue to define Life 2.0. What do I mean by this term? Well, I'm coming to realize that I live in a different body, with a different mind, different abilities, and at times a different personality than I spent the first eighteen of my years living in. Is it better? is it worse? or is it, to steal a concept from cultural studies, "just different"? I would like to say it's worse, but in realizing God's sovereignty and the larger perspective than my physical life I desire to say it's better. At best in reality, I settle on it being different.
Rest: I need more of it. Riding bikes used to demand more sleep of my body than the average person, so exchanging that for Body 2.0 changes my sleep little. Instead of my lack of sleep meaning my muscles were more fatigued, now it means my entire body quits functioning reasonably. My brain slows, my muscles are fatigued, I am in pain and ache specifically and just generally. There is no option of shorting myself of sleep for more than a day or two. It used to be I worked hard for twelve hours a day six days a week and Sundays were more a fun rest day. Now I work eight hours maximum and Sundays are critical to my surviving the next week. Sometimes I take a rest day in the middle of the week. When living in unison with others I am immediately faced with the failure of my body from lack of rest within one or two days...there is no option but to stop and be still.
There is good in this. It gives an excuse for watching more Netflix, mostly a bad choice. It also gives (or forces) a chance to contemplate life, pray, have relaxed conversations, and be with people. I have been learning to respect other's limitations in life.
Activity: Is a precious resource. It is expendable. Conservation of energy is a principle I learned in cycling to win races...now it's a principle I apply in life to making it through each day. If I run around playing tag with kids I may not have the energy tomorrow to walk to classes and serve espresso. If I go hiking it may be a rest for my brain, but it may destroy my plans of going on date with my girlfriend where I am fully present. I'm often caught in a struggle between being active to convince myself that my life isn't ruined by being sick and the reality that it will cripple me when it comes to fulfilling my responsibilities the next day. I didn't know that watching my friends play ultimate frisbee while I sit and watch could literally feel like getting kicked in the gut repeatedly...it can. Bottom line is this: I can try to plan things to make me feel happy or I can plan my activities by looking to bring my God glory. When I do the former the pain and my limits hit and I get angry and bitter. When I do the latter he guides me within my limits and I find genuine fulfillment in my smaller life.
Pain: It used to be a thing I could point to...my back hurts...my head hurts...my legs hurt. I could predict its length...once I get some sleep my headache will leave...my legs need a couple days to recover. It was something I could control. I don't want my back to hurt? I won't run too much or jump on a trampoline. I don't want my legs to hurt? I'll take a couple rest days on my bike.
I'm surrounded, at times overwhelmed, by this new pain. People ask what hurts...I'll say my back or my head or something that might be the most acute, but I always hurt...everywhere. It's an inescapable ache. The only real escape is to get enough dopamine, endorphins, or adrenaline pumping through my body to overwhelm it...and this is generally a bad idea. The speed I've driven vehicles, the damage I've done to my body through exercise, the risks I've taken in relationship just for the thrill are reckless and sad. The constant feeling of pain numbs my senses. The world is a fuzzy image in my eyes and the touch of another person is only a weak sensation.
Saying something good about pain is hard. It does change you...there is no other choice. As a racer the pain of training and racing taught me new strength of mind and soul...it transformed my body and my heart. Living in pain is different...it rips you apart and shreds your very soul. There are days you are an angry vengeful person solely as a reaction to your physical pain, but you find yourself taking this out on those around you. You hide and are tormented with the realization of the destruction you worked while in pain. It changes you though. You find peace in storms. You have patience with things you would not have imagined bearing through in the past. You find joy in any respite. Quite bluntly the only thing left is to grow and see beyond your human shell.
Thought: To be direct I'm naturally quite smart. I got better grades while putting in less time and effort than my peers. To comprehend complex ideas at young age was simple. I realized this and valued it as an asset. If it took me less time to do the thinking, I could spend more time serving others and applying what I learned. I enjoyed having deep intellectual conversations and gaining a greater understanding of everything from physics to theology. Could I be an oblivious guy? for sure. Were there times I misjudged a situation and did something dumb? numerous stories are told to that point. Were there people smarter and quicker than me? no doubt. In the end though thinking was the least of my worries most of the time.
Today. Thinking is more of a conscious effort than riding a bike ever was. Very rarely had I ever reached the limits of my mental capacity before. I clearly remember at the point of reaching nuclear chemistry realizing that my mind could not hold the concepts easily. Now that is my feeling trying to grasp my schedule for the week. On the rare good days I can actually imagine scenarios in my head and follow our theology professor's lectures. Most days these are beyond me. My mental process has to be carefully restricted to one track at a leisurely pace. Re-reading sentences has become one of my hobbies when reading novels. I think the most painful thing is when a good friend starts recounting a story of a some awesome time they had with me and I can't remember any of it until partway through it faintly comes to mind. Even with my girlfriend we've agreed that she has to have our collective memory.
Now I can sympathize with my elderly friends who are beginning to have their memories fade and may simply not find the words for their thoughts. To not be mentally capable of achieving an A grade regardless of time and effort is an experience I can corroborate. My thoughts must be simple and concise. I live in the moment more and more, saying simple thoughts of how I feel. I can't get lost in emotional muddles the way I used to and hide behind abstract phrases. I am far more raw and honest out of necessity.
Friends...they are harder to come by. I don't mean this at a surface level. They come a dime a dozen. Those who can live with me, see me at my worst, when I hate myself, when I hate life, when I take out my pain on them, when I'm weak and can't carry my own weight, those are the friends who are harder to come by. I know, though, their depth and strength. If you can listen to the same story I told last week, and the week before that, because I forgot I ever told it to you and yet you still laugh at the right moments, it means far more.
God. He can't be a distant part of my life. He has to be here and now. If he's anything less than I lose focus on my life quickly spirals towards a dark abyss. I yell at him, I scream at him, I cry at him, I turn my back, but he won't leave me. When I think I've finally lost him, he gently comes and turns my heart. I can't help but find hope in his care and his beautiful plans in my utter brokenness.
This is Life 2.0 - I walk, I talk, I breathe, and I love. My life is smaller, but sweeter. My friends are fewer, but deeper. My actions are less, but more careful. My thoughts are simpler, but carry more weight. My pain is great, but my growth is greater. My hope is weak, but my God is ever stronger.
