Got out of bed, walked a few steps and had to sit down. So bad was the pain in my legs. I thought being in bed would give me plenty of time to write, to read, even to think about things. But it turns out that lying down, at least with a flu, sweating, trying to keep the bone and muscle pain at bay, puts a stop on any activity requiring at least a semi-alert brain.

We have a birthday in the family today and the plan is to have a fairly small party. But even fairly small parties require some degree of preparation. And while I had all the best intentions to do this preparatory work, I will be more of a burden than a help today.

Each time I feel the way I’m feeling right now, I think about how Pádraig must be feeling, must have been feeling. Being able to participate to a degree, but not to initiate, to interject. Being able to contribute to a degree, but not to physically assist or help to make things happen. Trying to follow conversations but, at times, feeling too exhausted to do so.

The way out of this? – Is to keep going, to move, to exercise body and mind. To stay fit physically and mentally. To do at least one crazy thing every day, or every week. To push boundaries. To question conventions. To explore new territories. To laugh.

Helpless?

Sometimes you climb out of bed in the morning and you think, I’m not going to make it, but you laugh inside — remembering all the times you’ve felt that way.
― Charles Bukowski

My foot!

PS: I thought the first sentence of today’s second reading was brilliant (from one of Paul’s letters): “Be very careful about the sort of lives you lead, like intelligent and not like senseless people.”