My Hair Hurts

Find sample blogs on a gazillion topics at Alpha Inventions

The Great Awakening

When you have friends who tend to be

a little crazy (that's your preference in

friendships), there are many memorable

minutes, stretching into days and even

years, and it appears that life will always

be this way (but you are young) and the

divine dilemma is to choose among an

infinite display of wonders.

And then a clap of thunder ushers in a great

awakening and you are Wile E. Coyote being

thrust by his momentum off the cliff into thin

air, defying seven laws of physics, glancing at his

paws and seeing how they lack support; at last,

he plunges twenty thousand feet and crashes

on the desert floor, gets up, intact, shakes off the

dust, and when you see him next he’s had a

shower and he wears two Band-Aids on his

forehead crossed to form an X. He

must have bones of

Styrofoam.

My bones— Where are you, Great Physician?

You must know my bones are burning like the

sparks above a bonfire that has just caught,

flared; and my hair hurts. The weight of air

hurts. I am in a flannel nightgown. This was not

my plan for Saturday, to go nowhere, not even

down the street and back, the sky so redolent with

spring, with blooming things and sweet, clear

sunshine— and I am in my room, confined to

bed. I couldn’t manage stairs and I so wished to

see the pansies, lemon balm, and meadow sage

just planted yesterday, already

thriving in Elaine’s wee

fairy garden.

I have shingles, is the thing, and I suppose I’m

meant to find the lesson in it but my brain’s been

disconnected. I have not made friends with pain,

but it’s persistent. “Knock, knock,” pain calls

unconvincingly as if it is a neighbor bringing

cake.

“Oh, you must embrace it,” people say

when they are well, implying that they’ve faced

the awful self-absorption and unmasked the lie

that nothing else exists, or ever will, except you

and your wish to die and get it over with. My

mind says, “This will end.” I know, and I intend

to shoo it toward another victim (someone we

don't care for) straightaway (forgive me, Lord)

with any luck. But Mindfulness says, “Live

today. Be present with this moment.” Even

though this moment

sucks.

Wile E. Coyote — http://www.greatamericanink.com/
All other illustrations — http://www.vnwallpapers.com/
 

Buy your cards for Father's Day, graduations,

weddings, birthdays, anniversaries, and more

at Annagrammatica.com.

We use 100% recycled

papers processed chlorine-free (PCF).

TODAY: Two-for-one sale: Buy 10 for $20,

get 10 cards free. That's $1 per card!