Category: The Sanctuary Blog

My  favorite quotes about pain, I have them memorized:

“Pain is inevitable. Suffering is optional.”

“There is no birth of consciousness without pain.”

“Although the world is full of suffering, it is also full of those who have overcome it.”

“Find a place where there’s joy, and the joy will burn out the pain.”

I’ve found a new and meaningful way for me to stay grounded and do some good: helping some people with pain. I’m not interested in joining the fray over politics; I am not for or against any politician right now.  My goal is not to harm and some small good.

Two years ago, when I started taking flower photos, a friend told me about a farm worker to the north of here who was in great pain with Sciatica. Sciatica is pain that radiates along the path of the sciatic nerve, the largest nerve in the body. It often originates in the lower back and extends down the leg and sometimes the foot.   

It’s a symptom of a problem with the sciatic nerve, not a condition itself, and it can cause pain, weakness, numbness, or tingling. 

St. Terese is known for her love of flowers, which are often represented by roses. Those who are dedicated to her report that roses appear when they ask for her intercession, which she gave to almost everyone she helped. I wish the original Christians were still alive and well. They are missed.

I called a doctor, did some homework, and found several new over-the-counter creams for treating Sciatica and lowering pain. These creams worked for several people. I gave thanks to St. Terese. It opened my eyes. It was so simple, yet it meant so much.

I am not a Christian, but I have studied and followed the work of the early Christian prophets, including Jesus Christ. When I can, I want to live without conflict or hatred. I want to do what I can and move away from what I can’t. I mean not to harm and to do some good.  It’s my way of coping without the hating part.

 St. Thérèse of Lisieux is renowned for her “Little Way” of spirituality, which emphasizes the importance of doing ordinary things with extraordinary love.

I had Sciatica once, and I remember how painful it was. I was going by the trailer where this person lived, and I decided to order a jar of Sciatica cream. I’m not sure what caught my eye and heart, but I remember thinking how wonderful it could be to reduce the pain of someone who did not have the funds or confidence to get help.

As she was called,  The Little Flower opened my eyes to “Little Way Spirituality.” Small things from the heart.

She believed in the value of simple, everyday actions and urged others to find holiness in their lives’ ordinary tasks and moments. This idea—small acts of great kindness—became the model and inspiration for the Army zig Good.

My friend, who had worked with farm workers, called me back to say this person had told her the cream had reduced and eliminated the severe sciatica pain she had experienced. What I remember is how good it felt to ease a person’s pain, something I don’t think I had ever taken seriously before or done. I was several years into the Army of Good Idea, and it was changing me—small acts of great kindness.

I called my friend and asked her if other farm workers experienced great pain from sciatica. She said there were others; the farm work is an easy mark for Sciatica. I’m taking five cans to the farm in the coming week and will explore how I can help people with nowhere else to go.

i’ll also be working with some very diverse young people with different kinds of politics to see if I can help them learn how to speak with each other.  I’m looking forward to that.

I’m weary of people complaining, pitying themselves, and venting their frustrations on others. This cannot last; it doesn’t make anyone feel good.

As St. Terese demonstrated, love can do that. Imagine if everyone reading did this or something similar to someone in pain.

I am serious about leaving the world a better place than I found it and not engaging in our politics’ cruel rage. I am very attached to my work at the Cambridge Food Pantry, and I will quietly and thoughtfully contact a doctor or social worker to see if I can lower some pain, one person at a time, a Little Way.

It’s one small step. Helping someone in pain live without pain or with less pain is a big deal for me. St. Terese had the right idea for healing, and I hope I do, too.

I was heading to the office of one of my favorite humans, Dr. Jacob Merryman, an outstanding dentist in Schuylerville, New York. It was a routine visit, but I didn’t reach the door. Before the dentistry, I tripped over a wooden garden bed on the sidewalk. I don’t remember much else.

My foot brace got stuck in the bed, and I went down. I fell face and head first (my head didn’t hit the ground). The sidewalk was cold, thick, heavy concrete.

How ironic that I got through a month of ice and snow and went down, landing on my knees and elbows going to the dentist. I might have blacked out a bit, but I’m not sure. A package delivery man came running, yelling, “Oh God,” which wasn’t reassuring. He was very kind and struggled hard to get me up.  A patient in the dentistry came out, and she looked horrified.

I remember being dizzy and off balance. I remember my knees hurting.

The delivery man was a very good person. He dropped his packages, came over, and tried to lift me, but he could hardly lift me. I was fuzzy, and my legs and arms hurt a little, but not my head. I knew I would be better. I’m great at falling, but this one came out of nowhere.

I worried somebody was going to call an ambulance if they didn’t get me up. One woman was thinking about it.

Still, suddenly, I felt a presence on my right side as I was struggling to stand, and I felt one arm getting under my right shoulder, and just like magic, I was lifted right up and was on my feet, shaking my head to clear it. I knew my knees might be bleeding (they were), and I saw it was Dr. Merryman who had come running out of his office and lifted me with one arm as if I were a Teddy Bear. He is a big, strong man.

If I was going to fall, this was the place to do it. His tech staff is just as kind as he is.

Dr. Merryman walked me into his office and into my chair. He looked at my knees and said, “Yes, they were bleeding, but it wasn’t too bad.” At first, I was a bit dizzy, but that cleared up. I lay down in the chair and got my head straight.

My head narrowly missed the iron post right next to me.

Dr. Merryman walked me inside, making sure I was stable.

Then, my teeth were cleaned by an assistant, and he examined me; I have to go back in a week because he wants to blunt what he thinks might be the birth of a cavity.

Jacob Marryman is one of the kindest and decentest men I know. He is a suburb dentist, the first one I ever looked forward to seeing. He is also as big as a bear.

When I first saw him over a year ago, my mouth was not in the best shape; my previous dentist had missed about six cavities. Thanks to Dr. Merrman, my feet are in great shape now. But what I love most about him is his warmth, kindness, and humanity. He feels more like a brother to me than a dentist.

Now, he is also a hero to me. Nobody called an ambulance. No reason.

I can still hardly believe I survived a month of ice, snow, and rain without falling. Oh, I forgot. I fell once two weeks ago when I slipped on the ice and broke my camera. But I didn’t have a scratch on me then. It didn’t hurt me, just my camera. I didn’t bring a camera this time.

The weather is so lovely, my guard is down. I’ll post some flowers and watch The Pitt on Max, now my favorite weekly show. And then I’ll read from my latest Irish mystery.

Maria attended her belly dancing class, and Zinnia is doing her lab companion routine. Bud wants to sleep in my lap. Zip is nowhere to be found, which is bad news for a mole or mouse. My back, arms, legs, and sides do hurt.

I expect to write at my desk in the morning; I might be a little late. At my age, falls can be severe.  I am sore all over. Once again, I am very fortunate—thoughts to those not so lucky.

Life makes its own decisions.

Onto the Flower Art. I took the photos this morning.

Joseph Campbell: “All  life is suffering…” James  Joyce answered: “Is Life Worth Leaving?”

Cambell: “Freud tells us to blame our parents for all the shortcomings of our life, and Marx tells us to blame the upper class of our society. But the only one to blame is oneself. That’s the hopeful thing about the Indian idea of karma. Your life is the fruit of your own doing. You have no one to blame but yourself.”

Campbell:” The place to find is within yourself.”

(When they hate, I will love. When they lie, I will tell the truth. That’s how I intend to handle it.

It feels much better than hating in return, at least for me.

As I mentioned, the blog is free for you but not for me. It’s time to ask for more support. If the blog is meaningful to you, please support it in any amount you can. I truly hate to ask for donations when so many people have lost so much, but the blog can’t survive without support, and I’m asking for whatever donations you can afford every two months.

If the blog is meaningful for you in these turbulent times, and I am working to make that happen, please consider paying me for my work. The blog can’t make it without support, and no billionnaire has stepped to send me money

The simplest contributing ways are through Venmo (Jon Katz@Jon-Katz-13) and PayPal ([email protected]). If you prefer to avoid the Internet, you can donate to the Jon Karz Blog Fund, P.O. Box 205, Cambridge, N.Y., 12816.

I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t necessary. This is a Sanctuary Blog now, it will stay that way.

We are in for a wild ride, and many of us are together. I am working hard to find ways to stay grounded and at peace. I’m no magician, but this will be a long ride. Please support the blog if you can. I am also working hard to find ways for the blog to help others. Fear is no fun, and neither is anger.