Essay | Clinic, life support, kraken tentacles | I was never so sure.

It's a good time to write now.

This is the first thought in my head, since I started writing, I have rarely used tools other than typing on my computer, and now, I am using my phone to start my text and open this article.

I'm in electrotherapy right now, eight wires wrapped in silicone, wrapped around my body, connected to my muscles in unique ways I didn't know about, twisting and wiggling in situations I couldn't control, even though I used to always I think it looks weird, but after the actual experience, it actually doesn't feel bad?

Yes, I'm in rehab again.

After more than a year of separation, I had to walk into the clinic again, and the pain in my body reminded me that my presence cannot be ignored. Many times I think about what else I can do: I can write more, I still have time to have a coffee with my friends in the afternoon, and I want to go to a museum next consecutive holidays. I am eager to fill in the blanks and start from another A space grabbing like a colorful, sea monster-like desire that devours everything that can be grabbed, I crave.

I wondered if I had done more or less to get to this place, and I was so sore in the middle of the night that I couldn't turn over, and I had to stumble over to my desk to get the painkillers. Logically I should have hated all of this, since I suffered so much and deserved a legitimate opportunity to complain, but I didn't.

Although I can't say thank you, I don't feel the need to scold me for it.
Anyway, it was painful, so painful that it even hurt to breathe.

The pain made me focus more on myself, turned off writing appointments with others, responded less to other people's messages, and more on getting along with myself.

I remember when I went to rehab a few years ago, I was full of resistance, as if I was about to walk into a space full of corpses, and everyone seemed to be dying, and I was one of them. I resist, I get sick.

But now I take it in stride.

I just think of it as a date to meet my body again, a date with myself.

Don't worry about other people's mood, don't care what time it is, whether it's time, and don't be sad or happy in that space and for other people's affairs. In short, only yourself, only dating with yourself.

Today I read "Writing for the Mind," and Natalie Goldberg wrote:

 "Recording the details of life is like standing up against the bomb with its murderous power, against the excessive demands for speed and efficiency. Writers must affirm life, affirming everything in life: the water glass, the custard creamer, the ketchup on the counter.  … ...we should give divine affirmation to the real things that do exist in our lives-the facts about us...we must be writers who accept things as they are, who love the details and step with "yes" on their lips Move forward, so that the world no longer has "no"." (P89-90)

So while I was reading, I saw a man staring at the phone screen, the nurse was drying in the sun the towels that the patients were using for heat compresses, the towels were fluttering in the wind under the clothesline outside the courtyard, and the green paint Concrete floor, see the heat and breeze outside. I see.

I have to learn to give affirmation in my life, even those painful, tortured nights that keep me awake, or those three treasures on the road who always don't obey the traffic rules, just like me riding freely among the country roads Reality, we all enjoy the breeze, the ridges by the road and the emerald green seedlings, we are all very real, very “yes”. None of us was denied.

So the half hour of not being able to use the phone during rehab became lovely, so the experience of tearing tears the other day became kind, and it was just part of the real thing.

At this moment, the electrotherapy machine behind me made a strange noise, and the physical therapist came to me and said, "It's alright." By the way, he ripped off the patch and wires from my waist, and asked me to deal with the "those" at my ankle. I cautiously pulled the wires connecting my body, as if some aliens were trying to get out of the test tube's life support. I thought it would be a sacred and cautious scene, but I only needed to pull gently to get out. It was just a cutscene.

I saw another man on the opposite side who was undergoing electrotherapy. His thigh was also connected to a life support, and he was using a frequency that he could not control, and his thigh was shaking independently.

I am sure. I am sure of these experiences and will enjoy them.

Accept your own powerlessness, accept the uncontrollability of the body, accept the disconnection between the body and the brain that is connected to the wire, accept that you have to say good morning to the nurse every day, accept the half hour of putting down the phone every day, accept those who are not free, accept your own Emptiness, powerlessness and need for assistance.

I'm sure I say "yes" to them like the world has never been so perfect.