Feeling Bad
Last week I had a cold and I was feeling pretty crummy. Some evil entity had tied a thick rope around my chest and I hadn’t drawn a full breath for 3 days. My energy was so low I could barely drag myself to my car to drive downtown for necessary errands. Me! the person who usually walks with a bounce everywhere I go leaving my car to pout in the driveway. I had reached the point where I couldn’t remember what it felt like to feel good. I was beginning to believe that I was going to be miserable for the rest of my life. It was bad.
I’m the type of person who tries to make the best of things with humor. The wonderful thing about an inflammation of my mucus membranes is that it gives me a good excuse to complain and soak up sympathy. I consider this the vital contribution of the virus. It brings me down off my high horse and humbles me into submission. No more goody-two-shoes and miss-helpful. I want to lay my head down in somebody’s lap and have my hair gently stroked back from my burning eyes. I want to grovel in the pain and be told I’m a poor-poor-baby because that brings joy through my being, down to my toes.
But no.
These days everyone is so into their “you create your own reality” fantasies, and so afraid of anything they perceive to be negative vibes that the fun in sucked out of being sick. There is no sympathy left in this world, only criticism. Just try to lay your sick little head down in somebody’s lap, attempting to elicit sympathy by saying, “I’m so sick I don’t think I’ll ever get well. I’m going to be sick for the rest of my life!” and all you get is rejection.
“You are just creating this illness in yourself by your bad attitude.”
“But I had a good attitude before I was sick. Can’t you just forget your fantasies for a second and pet my head?”
“Now you’re being judgmental. I have to go see my spiritual advisor for a new affirmation or I’ll get sick!”
Gee. I could understand this kind of rejection if the person was afraid of getting my germs. I can accept the idea of physical quarantine, but spiritual quarantine? That grates on my poor virus-strewn nerves. My head hurts.
Wouldn’t it be better, as a whole, to accept the humbling nature of the tiny virus? to fall into our humanity and surrender to our cell structure? I think the world would be a better place if people occasionally allowed themselves to be soft and yielding, if we saw our frailties with a sense of humor and grace instead of battling against the way things are–if we got some sympathy! We can understand others by understanding our own pain. We can laugh at our dramas by living them. And most important, we can remember who we are by simply being who we are. Then, maybe, a person could get their head petted when they want to have their head petted.