On being medically sound but miserably unwell (29 August 2012): Kerry-Ann Stanton

“I am of the nature to have ill-health.

There is no way to escape having ill-health” – The Buddha

 I am on Day 12 of a virus that I think is on its second pass through my increasingly fed up body.  Such are the hazards of relief teaching primary aged children, especially when I am prone to respiratory misery.  And while I do understand what The Buddha is on about couldn’t it be someone else for a change?

I do know that this is a spiritual newsletter, AND I find it difficult not to moan and whinge about coughing, nose blowing and body aches; oh and did I mention how TIRED I feel?!

Previous experience tells me that the only thing that really works is to give up and rest, preferably in bed.  Not that knowing this stopped me from going to the Doctor last week.  She didn’t laugh at me, fortunately, but did remind me that I was medically sound, that it was a virus and I needed to rest and drink plenty of fluids.  So there!

What rest has allowed me to do is rest, simple really.  I was very tired and there is such comfort in sinking into a warm bed, pulling the bed covers over me and disappearing into sleep.  No need to even pretend I am managing anymore.  And the reading I have done – lots of ‘trashy’ and not so trashy novels; can’t sleep for coughing if I lie down so I read instead and the coughing disappears as I am absorbed into a fictional world.

“I am of the nature to die

There is no way to escape death” – The Buddha

In my privileged work as a funeral celebrant I am regularly reminded of the closeness of death.  And I am grateful that it is not my time, just yet; that I am medically sound, with all the opportunities that go with that, even as I am feeling miserably unwell. Grateful that from the stillness comes those little moments so many of us treasure.  As I lay reading, propped up, in our living room last weekend, the sun warmed the large pink rhododendron in front of me.  From round and over and under this tree fluttered half a dozen monarch butterflies; such a heartening sign of spring around the corner.  They fluttered and fed in the warmth of the day before disappearing.  Had I been doing my usual day I might well have missed them.

I am going to finish with words from Leunig, another reflective writer that I take great solace from.  In writing a prayer for those who suffer from the common cold he finishes with:

“We give thanks for blessings in disguise.”

 Arohanui Kerry-Ann

May all things be well, including you and me!