When pain can help with purpose

Purpose triumphs over pain.

The line jumped out at me from the commencement speaker’s address at my daughter’s doctoral hooding ceremony.

She was talking about how you can use adversity and disappointment as fuel when things get difficult. She’s not wrong about that. Many people can point out a specific moment where disappointment gave them a fork in the road and allowed them to choose a hard road that led to future success.

My most recent instance was at Christmastime, when I saw myself getting angry and bitter and decided to change course.

As someone with a chronic condition, the words also have a second meaning. Chronic physical pain comes with extra psychological and logistical baggage that makes existence difficult sometimes. For people whose burden is heavier than mine, equating pain with purpose is almost cruel.

I’ve only had brief tastes of that kind of existence, enough to understand that road is steeper than I can imagine. The only reward for perseverance is more of the pain you’re trying with withstand, forever and ever, amen.

With each flare, the possibility exists that I get stuck in that place. It’s a sobering prospect.

Every day I don’t get stuck there is a gift–not earned or guaranteed. I waste far too much of those days, but that I also find purpose in them.

The pain of the Fibro has made me a better person. It’s helped me be more empathetic, more emotionally controlled. More intentional. It’s spurring on my efforts to continue those improvements.

There was a time in life when I was a bitter pain in the ass. I worked hard to change who that person was. Pain or not, I’ll be damned if I’m going back there.

While nothing tomorrow is guaranteed, my odds of experiencing a life-altering crash are higher than for most. That means I need to live with purpose and build resilience while I can.

While my pain might not lose to purpose, the battle’s worth fighting. And finding something bigger than the pain makes the hard existence of dealing with it seem less pointless. Ironically, that might make it easier.