Pain, by Whitney Farmer – Un Pop Culture

June 2, 2010 Whitney Farmer 5 Comments

Gilby Clarke of Guns N’ Roses played at the club recently, his first performance since his hit-N’-run motorcycle accident in January. Amazingly, he survived but came out of it with a mangled leg that required many surgeries and has left him — hopefully only temporarily — with the need to use a cane. As visually cool as it sounds to walk with a limp because of getting smashed up on your death machine, living with pain and seeing no end on the horizon can smash up a soul as well.

Pain, as author Pete Egoscue calls “…an ancient message”, is a confusing challenge. Resources are mustered easily in the beginning, from our bodies’ own opiates to casseroles from near strangers who read about our losses in the newspaper. There comes a point however, when all too soon we are expected to stop being in pain because everyone else begins to feel uncomfortable. When a chronic illness or a complicated injury or a broken heart fails to be resolved with the application of the first surge of compassionate gestures, those who are suffering sometimes are faced with the additional burden of becoming the comforters. Being strong for everyone around us while we are still suffering might be a terrific virtue to have, but it probably isn’t one that can be faked over a long period of time. Like too many aspects of modern culture which exalts immediate gratification, the question is whether a quick fix is really a good thing.

On an individual level, the wilderness experience of being alone in pain strips us bare of all the wasted layers of the trivial. There is too much that isn’t worthy to be included in our lives, and traveling through our particular desert can take us back to what is essential. Fat cells don’t only store fat: They also store impurities that have been taken in from the surrounding environment. Lose the fat and what is left is not only lean, but clean. Sometimes, the most frightening truth that is revealed through pain is one that has the power to terrify us all: Sometimes we learn that we need help or that our lives have changed.

I tore my rotator cuff about a year ago during a reggae show that got a bit rough. For almost two months, I slept sitting up and wore a sling. My dad helped me style my hair, and I’d often go to work looking really bumpy. The security guards would automatically stand on my right side, protecting me from an accidental contact that could bring me to tears. The bartenders would have ice packs waiting for me when I’d step into the server well. After my sling came off, I have been faced with rehabilitation which basically entails trying to recapture what was lost but possibly coming to terms with being changed forever. The pain I have felt has stopped being something I receive sympathy for, but it is something that I need to concede to until further notice. I have to say yes and no to things now which are different than before. But the pain has changed from the acute type which makes me want to just cradle my wound and has become a type that makes me itch to be whole and healthy again. It has begun to help me into action.

This is a good thing, because our world isn’t a place for sustained compassion. We have heard about how popular attention becomes saturated after stories of natural disasters. How many of those with terminal conditions plan for their own suicides because they don’t want to be a burden to those around them? What is WRONG with letting people care for each other? There are real works of the soul that are encountered on both sides of this equation that can be experienced no where else. Conscience and compassion need to be mined like gold and then refined to be visible and valuable.

There is a story about Jesus which confused me for many years. He had arrived at the home of Mary and Martha after the death of their brother Lazarus. Shortly afterwards, Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead. But before that, He cried over him, It is the shortest scripture in the Bible, “Jesus wept.” How could this make sense if death was going to be rolled off like dirty clothes? Did Jesus cry because His own crucifixion was near? I don’t think so. I think that this is an example of true friendship: Regardless of the outcome, we stand beside those we love when they are in pain. Only then is there a hope that our souls will come out of it alive.

Pain has purpose. It aggravates us into healing, and it inspires those around us into conscience. Beyond that, I’d rather not have it cross my path in a hit-N’-run.

Quote of the Blog, from Ed, Dude of Light and Fog: “I had a stalker once. But she had short term memory problems, so it didn’t last too long.”

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Whitney runs a rock music venue in the LA. area, and got a sunburn last weekend.