Some people believe that you become what you focus on. In some ways, that may be true, but in others, it falls far short of reality. If you focus only on pain, you can miss the small moments of joy that arrive quietly and without warning: a message from a friend, the feeling of sunshine through a window, a day when your body grants you an hour of peace. Yet if you ignore the pain completely, there is no honesty in your life, and no guiding light to help you find your way through the fog.
I fight so hard, battling insurance companies, following up with doctors, searching for answers through research and experience, and sometimes walking paths I’ve never walked before, for one simple reason: beneath all the pain, I profoundly want to live, and I profoundly want a joyful life. I am not afraid of death, but I understand a deep poetic truth that many people overlook: I can still see the sunshine, even on the days when I can no longer feel its warmth.
Perhaps that’s the part people don’t understand. Surviving this much suffering while still clawing toward a future, while still dreaming, still creating, still asking your body to hold on for one more chance, is its own kind of proof that a meaningful, happy life isn’t the impossibility we sometimes imagine. Joy doesn’t always arrive as a grand triumph over suffering. Sometimes it exists quietly, in the spaces between pain and soft smiles, in the stubborn refusal to stop hoping, and in the enduring belief that there is still something beautiful waiting just ahead.
I have so much optimism about the future, but don’t be deceived; there is no place for toxic positivity in my life. When three days out of five are difficult, and two days out of ten are downright awful, it can be hard to keep focusing on the scattered days that are beautiful, or happy, or simply fun.
Most of the time, it’s better not to think in terms of days, but in terms of hours, or sometimes, just in terms of minutes. You can find joy in so many small places. When you are living with chronic pain or disability, those moments of joy often have to be enough to carry you through.
Yes, of course, it’s alright to be down sometimes; just don’t stay there too long if you can help it.
Stop looking for grand experiences, fabulous vacations, family reunions, or any number of bucket-list moments. Learn instead to cherish the flower you never thought would bloom, the savage rainstorm after a long summer’s drought, or waving to a neighbor you haven’t seen in a while. A happy life isn’t made up of grand gestures. It’s made up of small, hesitant moments that will pass you by if you aren’t quick enough to notice them.
