“This appears chronic.”
Chronic. What’s that? Sounds like a newspaper. Like the Houston Chronic.
“Well, your kidney doesn’t have much meat.”
“Doc – Are you sure they didn’t scan my groin instead of a kidney?”
Besides the ongoing, nagging throb coming from the right flank, like there’s a little alien dude in there clawing its way to freedom, I’m reminded my kidney is dying every day.
The doctor’s visit brought memories of a word from long ago. Thrashing. When my father was dying. He was in hospice care. The woman (saint) who helped us make him comfortable, advised me: He’s going to fight the death process by “thrashing.” Limbs will convulse. Expect sudden bursts of muscle movement. It’s a body’s last gasp before going under permanently.
And he fought. Boy, did dad thrash.
Yea. The kidney feels like sometimes it’s in a death throe, or playing ping pong with a marble. And I’m sad. Because I’ve become very attached to my internal organs. I’m sensitive to the pain because my right kidney and I have become very close. We sort of grew up together.
It’s weird when a piece of you thrashes.
1). I’d rather lose three-dimensional over multi-dimensional any day. If I needed to make a choice, I’d lose a kidney over the ability to possess knowledge, maintain a sharp mind, stretch my imagination. Well, I’d rather have my cake and kidney too, but I’ve learned, especially as of late, you can’t keep everything. Parts of you will eventually die. While you’re still alive. Dreams will require burial. The challenge is to keep as much of yourself as alive as possible before the entire system you’ve grown to depend on, folds up like the banking industry in 2008. This also includes your spirit to continue pursuing your dreams.
2). What dies first? You will go off the deep end. Your brain will die from panic if you try to control the outcome of a physical challenge. All you can control are your actions in the face of it. Focusing on the present and not trying to make the problem bigger than it is (or worrying about a worst-case scenario which may not occur) will only cause your sanity to die first.
Kamal Ravikant writes in his new book “Live Your Truth” that you must live in the moment and suffering occurs when we resist the moment. We are far stronger than our pain. It can come in waves, move through us, spice up our lives (yay) but suffering, that happens when we fight it, shut the doors and hold off, shouting – “No you should not be here..”
Don’t “thrash” or fight shit you can’t control; you’ll only expend precious energy – end up nowhere. One the obstacle rolls over you, once you surrender, there’s an eerie calm and clarity to your thought process. I know. I’ve been there. Kidney, you listening? Now roll over.
3). A greater piece of your net worth potential dies daily. If you’re not aware or just plain ignore the pitfalls of your saving and investment behaviors, every day your financial situation is gonna die. Progress can only come through acceptance of bad money habits and no longer making excuses. Ease also comes from living in the moment from a money perspective.
Take out five bucks (yes, actual paper money).Pass your finger tips slowly over the fibers in the currency. Look at the bill up close. Smell it if you dare. Then take out a pen and paper – write down what having money means to you. Write down short list of quick sentences. Focus on small actions you can take right now to save more, reduce debt or invest smarter (even if it means you require professional guidance getting it done).
4). Stress will kill. The more friction you create by trying to control outcomes in your life, the more kidneys you will lose (and you’re usually blessed with two, only). The real power you possess is focus. Focus on your efforts. Now, are your odds of success more favorable if your efforts are true? Sure. Are your efforts guaranteed to lead to the outcomes you seek? No. When you learn to be responsible for the actions taken and truly understand deep inside, how the outcomes can be far from what you expect, (or predict), the inner peace experienced will reduce your stress. The odds of maintaining those lovely organs you’re attached to, will increase. And that’s a good thing. You’ll laugh more in the face of adversity. You’ll crack funny jokes like I did (take my kidney, please).
Chronic is not death.
It’s the universe shaking you. Making you aware of a problem.
Chronic doesn’t regret to inform you that you need to do a better job.
Or your entire life will turn to shit.
What part of you will die today?
Which piece of you will live?