joy in the minutiae, day 1: joy in confinement

In case you're wondering about this here hullabaloo, read here for a description of the where's and why's, and how you can get in on the action (comment that you're playing, and at the end of the week -or two- I'll pick a winner to receive a care package courtesy of ME).

I rolled into the weekend still chewing on this idea of joy extraction.

It takes time

to extract

joy

from life.

Chip came home on Friday afternoon to find Bean and I bed-haired and mussed, freshly awake from dual nappage (hers for the roosting cold, mine for the almost-roosting cold and a nerve-induced neck ache that was threatening a Whimsy revolt of the highest order).

He brought dinner home (love that man) and we ate it on the couch.

So began the (sort-of) weekend in repose.

Saturday had us heading to a massage appointment (the neck ache took root and was now classified as a full-blown neck outage with accompanied muscle pain down my arm). I luxuriated in the hands of the talented Lisa and hoped that I'd be feeling right as rain for a post-massage Costco run. (Despite her best efforts, I wasn't in the right/rain category though we went shopping anyway.)

At each stop along the way I considered this body of mine (how could I not). The movements I make each day: picking Alice up after she's hurt herself, or scooping her into my arms for a quick love--- moving through the house, bending down to pick up toys and doing the dishes in the sink--- climbing into the car for errands and out again at home, stooping over a sewing project, running on the treadmill, reaching and grasping and twisting and bending. The movement we make in the quiet of sleep, the small reach for a pillow or the whisper of my toes under the bedsheets. Pulling and grasping for the canister of oatmeal in the kitchen, mixing cookie dough, walking to the mailbox. The -ing of so many words made real because of the movement behind them.

This body is a miracle, whether it is in working order or not. Each movement on Saturday was accented with a sharp jab of pain, my patience going staccato because of it. On Sunday I was still in pain, forced myself to a regimen of ice packs and pain killers, occasional stretching as suggested by Lisa.

On Sunday afternoon I asked Chip in all sincerity if it would ever end, if I'd be feeling better.

Of course he said yes. And he resisted the urge to LAUGH at me (which he should have done, yes, he should have laughed at me and all the drama drama drama).

So here it is, for you my lovelies, a glimpse into JOY despite inconvenient pain: the obvious reference to the many people living with chronic pain, or debilitating disease, or the lasting effects of a tragic accident. We have a family friend who was rendered a quadriplegic due to a freak body surfing accident in 1989. An amazing man, one who finds joy in living his life, whose catch phrase, "It's good to be alive" is one that belies the simple nature of his outlook.

Enjoy this body, in all its gracefulness. Wiggle your fingers and feel the distinct pleasure in their movement. If you can't do that, wiggle your mind and know that you can move with infinite freedom in the space between your ears.

By Sunday afternoon, Bean and I were beyond stir-crazy. We'd skipped church and had destroyed any semblance of order in the living room. I went so far as to gate the kitchen from further 2-year-old redecorating. But despite the small quarters and the lackluster company ("good for nothing" and "pathetic" come to mind when I think of my body parked and whimpering on the couch)--- Bean kept finding things to do, games to play, and mischief to ponder.

Not hard to find joy in that. She pelted me with several pieces of plastic food and the word that came time mind was this: wonderful.

If you're playing along this week, comment here when you've posted and I'll link you up---

Eight Twenty Eight

bethsix

One Day at a Time

City Mouse Country

If you want to play along, please link back to The Creamery and let me know (comment or email at whimsyattack AT gmail DOT com). I'll visit everyone's posts and pick my favorite, who will receive an authentic care package a la Whimsy (that's me, dudes).

(Also let me take a moment to wish a very happy birthday to my very oldest friend Stacie and one of my very newest friends Alicia. Happy birthday, girls, you make my life brighter because you're in it. Thank you for being so amazing.)