Sunday, January 15, 2006


I'm thinking about pain because I have been experiencing quite a bit of it lately, and I don't mean the kind that comes from having three kids of ages four and under. I have been suffering headaches, neckaches, and severe shoulder aches due to sleeping next to my son with my arm wrapped protectively around him and from carrying him. My muscles cannot take much more of this. I am in constant pain from the cramping, tight muscles. On Tuesday I have an hour long deep tissue massage scheduled. This should relieve plenty of the pain.

My shoulders hurt so badly that it is difficult to type, so I'll type the poem of today and stop. The reason for this particular poem is quite transparent.

By Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Laugh, and the world laughs with you;
Weep, and you weep alone.
For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth,
But has trouble enough of its own.
Sing, and the hills will answer;
Sigh, it is lost on the air.
The echoes bound to a joyful sound,
But shrink from voicing care.

Rejoice, and men will seek you;
Grieve, and they turn and go.
The want full measure of all you pleasure,
But they do not need your woe.
Be glad, and your friends are many;
Be sad, and you lose them all.
There are none to decline your nectared wine,
But alone you must drink life's gall.

Feast, and your halls are crowded;
Fast, and the world goes by.
Succeed and give, and it helps you live,
But no man can help you die.
There is room in the halls of pleasure
For a long and lordly train,
But one by one we must all file on
Through the narrow aisles of pain.

1 comment:

Kuky said...

Oh I am sooo there with you on this! Luckily for me though mine only started up a couple of days ago and it's fading away. I think I must have slept wrong one night.