My six-month-old baby loves the outdoors. He can be wailing
like the world will end, but when the hubby takes him outside, he sucks in a
deep breath, stares around him, startled, and calms down.* This is the case
even when it’s ridiculously cold, cold enough that I don’t want to go outside
at all. It’s too uncomfortable. This made me wonder: Does he not register the
same things as painful and uncomfortable as I do? It seems like the experience of cold is still
novel to him, something interesting and unique and beautiful instead of something
to be avoided at all costs.
I’m an unmedicated birth advocate,** and so I’ve thought a
lot about how we see pain. When I look at the pain of childbirth, I think of it
much the same way I hear runners talk about marathons—painful and difficult, but
eminently worth it. Runners can come out of the experience feeling amazing,
even if they’re pathetically sore, out of breath, exhausted. In a lot of ways it’s
the meaning we attach to the experience that determines how we come out of it.
Which brings me to the subject of writing. For most writers
seeking publication, there is a lot of rejection, pain, growth, difficulty. A
couple months ago I got a rejection letter I’m still reeling from a little; the
other rejections haven’t hurt the way this one did—and that has been partially
because of the meaning I attached to it.***
But I’m thinking that maybe I—and the rest of us—can try to
learn to take it the way my baby does. To him, it just adds to his life
experience; the cold is just input, something to learn from and enjoy for its
sheer novelty. Granted, rejection isn’t going to be a rare occurrence for most
of us, but I think maybe we can learn to appreciate it as part of the process—painful
and difficult, but eminently worth it.
* Well, most of the
time.
** Yes, I think it’s awesome and a great way to go. No, I’m not going to look down at anyone else for doing something different.
** Yes, I think it’s awesome and a great way to go. No, I’m not going to look down at anyone else for doing something different.
*** But let’s skip the
therapy session for today and just say ouch.
This is so true! I try to embrace the idea that the entire point of obstacles is to prove ourselves strong enough to overcome them. When I hear “no”, then I take a step back and ask, “why?” Sometimes the answer is something I can’t control, so I just give that to God and trust that He knows what He’s doing. But if it’s something I can control, then I see that “no” as a way of teaching me what is required of me and challenging me to be better.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Kasey. Awesome perspective!
DeleteI really liked this post thank you
ReplyDelete