Have been having a lot more chest issues lately. It is like I have had this chest cold for it must be close to a year now. No, it is over a year as I remember the first time the doc put me on antibiotics and we talked about Halloween. Strange the things I remember and what I don’t remember. It seems like I am on the road to recovery but never quite make it all the way before it comes back.
Yeah, I know poor me I have a chest cold. It just wears you down after a year of it. Heart failure affects your breathing. Short of breath after doing even the simplest of tasks. Walk up a flight of stairs, take a shower and I am huffing and puffing like a steam engine. I joke that for me to take a shower is almost a waste of time. I keep the water as cool as I can, avoiding the humidity. By the time I am finished and dried off, I am sweating so much you would think I had just done a marathon. I am not sure but I think this sweating is the bodies way of helping to get rid of the extra fluid I always seem to be carrying. It is not until times like this when I really sit down and think about it that I do realize physical activity is becoming more and more restircted or limited.
I shouldn’t complain, I know so many others have it so very much worse. Hey, a thought just hit me. I always say there is always two ways you can look at everything. What is the life style so many men dream about? Being able to sit around doing nothing, napping as I choose, watching TV as I want to. Hey, I am living the dream life, so I had better quite complaining.
An old fable or story comes to mind. I am not sure where I heard this or read it.
There is a very isolated, very poor village located somewhere. The donkey of one of the farmers falls into an old dry well. The farmer no matter how hard he tries can’t get the donkey out. He calls on all the other villagers. Soon the entire village is gathered around the well, discussing various ways to get the donkey out. Each possible way is discussed and then rejected as being to difficult of to expensive. Ultimately, it was desided there was just nothing that could be done to save the donkey and as the well was dry, it might as well be filled in with dirt so that nothing else would fall into it.
(I know, I know, it sounds inhuman to bury a donkey alive but bear with me on this) A group begins to throw shovel full after shovel full of dirt into the hole. Almost miraculously they all see the donkey begining to rise up out of the hole. They realize that as each shovel full of dirt hits the donkey’s back he is merely shrugging it off. Then as the dirt lands at his feet he is using it to build himself a higher and higher sturdy base to stand on. The donkey is save the dry well is filled in and all ends well.
I like this story, I am not sure how well I have worded it to convey the real meaning it has for me. Can we use this as a comparable to so much that happens in our own lives? Almost daily we have some sort of “dirt” thrown on us. The only difference is the “dirt” thrown on us is usually “emotional dirt” being the problems and stresses of life. Do we have what I call, Donkey wisdom? Do we shake off the “dirt” thrown our way, using it as a platform to build a more solid base to stand on? Or, do we lie down and allow it to bury us? Think about it and let me know.