ouchy

[reverancepavane]

Pain. Pain is neccessary. It is a warning system that a biological organism is suffering damage. The most primitive of behaviour modification systems. It hurts. So don't do it again. Or you will get hurt again. This is the simple lesson of pain that we learn as children. Sometimes the lessons that pain teaches are more complex. The Apache shamans would drive wooden stakes through their chest tied to ropes on a frame and would dance to the sun. The combination of pain, food and sleep deprivation, and trance state brought on by the dance would allow the shaman to awaken to the Ghost Dance. The mind escapes the pain in the only direction it can and enlightenment attained. Satori is often described as being painful, and not just for its transitory nature. It is possible to override pain, especially when issues of survival are at stake. The human body is capable of incredible feats of strength given sufficient will. Elderly grandmothers can tear the doors off cars to save their grandchildren, but in doing so they brutally rupture their bodies. The cost of pain must still be paid at a later date. Will always comes to an end. Eventually. And then there will be pain again. More so, because you have probably caused more damage by ignoring the pain. But we live in a society raised on credit. Buy today. Pay tomorrow. Anyone can make this bargain; it requires no special ability. Witness the hangover after the drunk (or the liver damage if you don't suffer hangovers). But when you combine it with certain training, when your body mistakenly trusts you, then you can really borrow against the next few days. But you have to sleep some time, and with the loss of will the pain comes. The debtor always pays his due. Again, I find that thermodynamics is next to godliness. For me, it's now the next day, and the pain really is incredible. My brain is cranking out the endorphins and other assorted painkillers like crazy in an attempt to mitigate the effects, and much of what I am feeling has disappeared under a deep red glow while my self-repair systems kick in to deal with the damage I've managed to do to myself. Am I enjoying it? No. Was it worth it? In this case: not really, although it might have been. Would I do it again? I don't really know. I'd like to think that I wouldn't, but I know, given the circumstances, I almost certainly would do it again. And again. And again. As Goldman said in The Princess Bride: "Life is pain, Your Highness. Anybody that tells you differently is trying to sell you something." Well, it seems I'm still buying.