what i learned from a broken rib
Today was a tough one.
But then a seventeen year old boy told me that my hair was awesome and that made it better.
Okay. So not really better per se, but it did make me smile and that’s something.
And now it’s no secret that things have been hard for me lately. But what might be a secret is that I’m going through the most emotionally painful time I’ve ever experienced. But now you know, so it’s no longer a secret.
And one of the weirdest parts of this–not worst, mind you, but weirdest–is that I still go through life and respond to it accordingly. I still smile when somebody says something nice to me. I laugh when my parents’ dogs are bounding through the snow like they forget they are dogs and think they are gazelles for a second or two. I get hungry and even feel the smallest bits of anticipation when I know the rolls from Texas Roadhouse are in my near future. I tell people I am okay because nobody in passing has the time to listen to the long and detailed story of how I am really doing; people have jobs, you know. They can’t just quit in order to listen to an answer given a little too honestly. I get happy when I see my nieces’ burgeoning fashion sense catch my eye: a pink sparkly glove here, a plaid tie or a fedora there–all of it indicating some fun shopping trips heading our way.
But then there’s this underlying part of me that catches at the beauty or innocence or freedom or whatever it is that is making me smile. It’s something that grieves, I guess. Something that says I need to stand a little bit apart from that right now; not forever, but for a while.
It’s all confusing.
A lot of it’s reactionary, and that makes me feel crazy.
And then the other day I thought about something that helped me make sense of some of it.
The thing is, it’s pain. I know pain, it’s not like we’ve never met before. I am a dancer, after all; pain is a given. Now I’ve never before met pain like this, and dear God , I hope we don’t stay close long, but there you go. It’s not altogether brand new.
And I thought about my broken rib when I was doing A Chorus Line. I thought about how A Chorus Line was my job, there was no option to not do it; not for me, anyway. And for a good long while, I went into each show expecting the pain. I learned which parts of the show made the pain more acute; I learned to breathe through these parts and anticipate the relief that was sure to come once that number was over.
Because it never lasted forever.
And I relied on that fact. I also, to be honest, changed when the pain was the worst. I reacted to it and pulled my dancing in. I didn’t do everything the same as before, didn’t try to pretend as if I was not in that pain. I acknowledged it, did what I could, and didn’t sweat it if my jumps weren’t as high or my movement wasn’t as sharp.
And I realized that all of that applies to my emotional pain too.
Right now, life is my job and it’s not an option to quit, much as I feel like it sometimes. But it’s okay if I limp a little, so to speak. It’s also important to at least try to realize that it’s not gonna last forever. Though, that is really difficult when I am in the throes of it. That is usually when someone comes on the scene to talk me down from the ledge, metaphorically speaking.
But these thoughts, they somehow made me feel better. They gave me some perspective.
Still, I’d trade this pain for that broken rib any day.
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as fun shopping, life, pain, painful time, plaid tie, reactionary, Secret, sense, something, texas, texas roadhouse, time
As usual.. sending love your way. Sometimes TRANSFERRING the pain..can make it have a lot less bite, i.e. I’m so happy you’re a musician.
me too; I honestly don’t know what I’d do otherwise…
Sorry you are in such pain, kiddo. I pray that it will ease soon. Love ya.
I try to reserve awesome for describing the things of God, so I will say that your hair looks really great, at least judging from the pictures.
completely understandable and I will take “really great,”
Jess, this is so beautiful..and so sad..i wish so much that you didn’t ever know this kind of pain….i have always found it so strange that with pain and tragedy, life still goes on..though inwardly when were the one in pain..it feels like time has literally stopped and we are standing there..watching the world go by. but it is so true what you said, that it won’t last forever..and somehow, in the midst, God is there , so kind, right there holding your hand..and He will guide you into beautiful things..i know it with all my heart..love you..and i am believing for good things for you..
thank you, Sarah. keep believing for me…
So strange because as I was reading this I was thinking, “You already wrote about this ribs and chorus line epiphany!” and then I realized that you told me this in person.
I very much agree with this. And to add to it, sometimes you can try something too early – something you thought you were ready for – but then your rib just can’t handle it and you realize you needed more time. That’s really normal and healthy too.
yeah, it was IRL, silly! and yeah, that is true. I am not sure that I am the best at knowing when enough is enough. Even with ACL I probably could have called out more for my rib but I didn’t cause I don’t like to not show up and do what I am supposed to do, you know?
This rib analogy is really good and clear. When you are in terrible emotional pain, you do things differently and you think differently and you become, to a certain extent, self-oriented.
Some people just sit on a couch when they have a broken rib. You are not like that. You still brave life and continue to do some of the things that you normally do. Your positive addictions: reading Bible, exercise, worship.
You don’t only have an amazing haircut, you’re amazing inside!
hahaha-mom, do you ACTUALLY think I have an “amazing” hair cut?!?!?
I haven’t heard that from you since I had long hippie hair:)
I hate that you’re in pain, and I hate whatever is causing your pain. But I am glad you have family to lean on and I’m glad you realize that you don’t have to be normal as you push through it. Praying.
Pj, honestly, I’ve seen pictures of Jesus’ hairstyle, and it was just okay.
Her FB profile pic begs to differ. Really, I heard it begging. Pretty pathetic.
OK, totally missed that you wrote Jesus and not Jess. They are so close, in spelling and spirit, that it doesn’t matter in most things, other than that I haven’t run across Jesus’ FB account.
Haha that’s awesome!! I think their hair is pretty different though.
Jess, a really close friend once told me it takes 3 – 5 years to get over some pains. The relationship I found in just me and the Lord was worth every tear. The pounding does pass. But you’ll want to remember it too. A verse I cling to (one of many) “Be Still, and Know that I am God”. Love you kiddo!
thanks, Vicki…that is a good and beautiful verse–thanks for the reminder:)