Don’t let the title of this column lead you astray. One might assume it’s an Easter missive reflecting the Christian belief of the crucified Christ arising from the tomb back to life.Capitalization is only because it’s a title. As you may know, the word “resurrection” appears in many guises. Among those are: “to return or restore to consciousness or life,” “to become active or flourishing again,” or “to restore from a depressed, inactive, or unused state.”
To all of the preceding definitions, “bingo!” Thanks and a tip of the hat to Merriam-Webster for this clarification.
You may remember Sunday, August 3rd, as Beaufort’s first day of gentle rain, lower temps, and slightly decreased humidity for quite some time, directly following umpteen days of hot and humid with searing sunshine interrupted only by the occasional dangerous thunderstorm. Water Festival weather for sure. Strolling the Spanish Moss Trail (SMT) after about 8 a.m. was akin to stepping onto a barbecue grill, no matter the SPF of your sunscreen nor the width of your wide-brimmed garden hat. The iPhone weather channel UV index hovered around Extreme, with a profile graphic reminiscent of the top of the Matterhorn. Jungle-like conditions. Only the gators were in their element.
I must admit that on early morning walks, no matter the heat, the Lowcountry’s exquisite scenery always catches my eye because, in my book, nowhere on Earth has this combination of natural order, i.e. gators for sure, but also palm-rich tropical forests, marvelous mazes of waterways rife with aquatic creatures, magnificent centuries-old live oaks bedecked with “old man’s beard,” near-daily sunshine, and feathered friends galore.
So on this first Sunday in August on the SMT, I witnessed all of the above – sans gators. But something was different, and the answer became clear immediately. Lovely, thick, bright green resurrection ferns covered the live oak arms and chunks of the trunk of every staid tree, nature’s own flourishing from a long-inactive state. As little rain had blessed Beaufort prior to that weekend, the ferns’ fronds were shriveled and curled, looking all but dead until a downpour brought drops from above to awaken the ferns into their glorious natural beauty. And with their appearance an ah-ha came to me, the answer to an issue that had been bugging me for a while.
If you’re of a certain age, I’m guessing you’ll understand how witnessing a lush re-appearance of resurrection fern could trigger an awareness of a personal sort of resurrection.Perhaps a recent birthday has evoked a focus on how high the numbers are re how many years you’ve been on the earth. This may be especially true if your day-to-days have been running along smoothly, if you’re feeling pretty darn good, staying busy with some sort of work or hobby; seeing friends, kids, and grands; traveling to intriguing destinations; and taking care of your health.
OR the abovementioned awareness of age can creep in if you’re not feeling so well. Maybe you’re saddled with an illness or an old injury has come back to haunt you, which can happen as we age.
A few years ago, I was diagnosed with bursitis in my left shoulder. The pain seemed to appear “out of nowhere” and grew worse.
“Have you injured this shoulder previously?” the orthopedic doc queried.
I thought briefly, then answered, “When I was 16, I fell off a horse and broke it, but that was years ago. That couldn’t still be a problem, could it?”
Turns out it could. And is. Pick an “itis”… arthr-, bursi-, bronch-, hepit-, et al. That particular suffix can mean “inflamed”…which can translate to “ouch.” A regimen of physical therapy did the trick. But it made me begin thinking about the fact that my body, which has always served me well, is aging and that my future might be different than imagined. Many seniors acquire serious health issues that can render them dependent on caregivers, land them in an extended-care facility, or worse.
Occasionally, if I’m overscheduled, tired, or worrying about the years passing quickly, I can get lost in the “what if’s” that can sometimes be my go-to thoughts. For me, that’s not unlike “going down the rabbit hole” of online options on Facebook, Instagram, or any other “black hole” of information or entertainment, which can suck me down faster than pluff mud before I know it.
Physically, as opposed to technologically, the form my what if’s or worries can take are the possibility of: dementia (More often I seem to be walking into a room and losing track of the reason I’m in that room.), skin cancer (A small facial mole can suddenly seem to me to be darkening, growing, and forming irregular edges.), or a brain tumor (A headache that wakes me in the night could be an OMG.) In reality, forgetting why one walks into a room is common; I’ve been doing that for years, as have many people. The facial mole, which I’ve had since childhood, is in the exact location of one my mother had, and it has not changed a bit. And the oncoming headache is probably the result of dropping barometric pressure, which has been a migraine trigger of mine for years. These thoughts only happen when – as mentioned above – I’m doing way too much, dog-tired, or not taking good care of myself.
The only remedy for extricating myself from what I refer to as “mindless entertainment”(technological) or “catastrophizing thinking” (physical) is as follows:
As Joseph Campbell so aptly reminded us, “Find a place inside where there’s joy, and the joy will burn out the pain.”
Don’t allow yourself to fall prey to worry about aging. The AARP Magazine always features stories about older folks who are living their best lives now at an age when society assumes the productive days of seniors are over. Wrap your arms around the possibilities and create your own resurrection a day at a time.
