Transplant Day Eighteen
November 29, 2019
There is always more than one way to experience an event, a setback, a difficult season of life. “Look on the bright side,” is a common admonition. Or “count your blessings.” Or “consider the alternative.” And that is just naming a few of the many pieces of advice people have offered me in the past few weeks. Problem is, I am at a time of life when I really don’t want to hear all the “good” advice. I have a retort, expressed out loud or just in my mind, that asks, “Have you walked in my shoes?”
Of course I know the answer to that — no one has walked in my shoes. No one knows how I feel, or how deeply I am languishing. No one understands well enough to give me positive admonitions. The truth is twofold: one) that other people are giving me positive affirmation because they truly care; and two) ultimately I will have to work out my own ways of coping and getting to the point of feeling positive again.
It’s a process, and not an easy one. It takes introspection, being gentle with myself and a good amount of positive self-talk. In a way, I am doing exactly what others are trying to do for me. I am contemplating the same positive advice others have given me. I get into my inner self and I think through positive admonitions and even simple platitudes designed to lift my spirit.
Sometimes it works. Sometimes not so much. It depends upon so many factors, at least for me. How is my pain? Do I feel worried or anxious? Do I feel as if my body is healing? Do I feel cared for? Are my medications playing havoc with me? Do I believe I can live with my limitations and restrictions? How close is my relationship with God? How positive is my outlook on life? How strong is my faith and do I feel hopeful about the future?
I read many years ago one of those simple platitudes designed to help create a positive outlook.
We can complain because roses have thorns or rejoice because thorn bushes have roses.
I copied it. I rendered it in calligraphy. I looked up its origin. As I contemplate it in the suffering of this post transplant season, I can’t help but believe that it must have affected me in some positive way because I have remembered it for more than 25 years.
So it’s essentially a choice I have to make — complain about the thorns or enjoy the roses. It’s not a bad life lesson to tuck into my heart and sit with for this difficult season of my life.
Oh, and by the way, most of the time when people offer me positive encouragement, I feel loved and cared for. I feel their compassion and the hope they lift up before me. I am grateful for that and for them.
1 thought on “On Roses and Thorns”
Just wishing you less bush, more rose at any given moment.