Things I Learn Only When I Am Sick

I love life. I love pure existence. I love the seeing snowflakes fall gently on the ground and the sound of raindrops and the smell of fresh-cut grass and the feel of ocean sand. I love music and dancing and reading and learning and feeling.

And then I get sick. Suddenly the only thing I love is a warm blanket and a bed. It can be just a cold, or a particularly low-energy week brought on by my low-thyroid, but either way, suddenly existence doesn't seem so great.

But sickness is part of life, and so I've decided to embrace it and write about it because we all get sick. It's so human. We might as well find some meaning in it, maybe even a little joy in it.

Mostly, I would say that sickness has been a school of humility for me. It usually happens when I've been doing too much, or not taking care of myself, and my body reminds me, "You have your limits." Also, I find that all of the things I might be tempted to take pride in -- being a patient person, being a good listener, being a good worker -- well, they don't come so easily when I am sick. Any credit that I was giving myself for being a good person usually has to go out the window when I'm sick; the slightest bit of a cold always reminds me, rather comically, that all it takes is some congestion and I am not really that pleasant to be around.

And I do think that there is a joy to be found in humility and in limitations. Humility, at its core, is freedom. There's an old-school prayer called the Litany of Humility that says as much. It's a beautiful prayer, although when you first read it, it sounds a little bit harsh. It is all about how humility is deliverance from a desire to be more than what we are. That desire to be more than what we are, to rely on ourselves completely, to control our lives and what others think of our lives completely -- that desire is ultimately not going to bring us to true freedom. True freedom is a freedom to be small and rely entirely on God and give ourselves completely to him and to others. And it gives levity to life, too, forcing us to learn to laugh at our smallness, to take ourselves less seriously.

Nothing reminds us that we are not what we want to be, we are not without our limits, more than sickness. The truth, the core of our existence, is we are entirely reliant on God's love. And that realization is ultimately freeing and liberating, even though I wish it came with fewer sneezes.