Time is the Fire

"Time is the fire in which we all burn." Delmore Schwartz, poet.

Early this morning I was blogging by the pool. Now I am sitting in the spine surgeon's office considering time and fire- its significance for living in the now. I imagine myself in AZ tomorrow, breathing the desert, saying hello to my roses. That's tomorrow, but where am I now?

We have had an intense week of living in the then. Set up an apartment for one or more months, planned our itinerary for the holidays, making ready for possible medical intervention, and now, plotting a strategy to consider surgery for my back. A titanium disc replacement at L5, to be precise.

I reached a low point when my family went on a hot air balloon ride- something I was afraid to do when Papa was a licensed balloon pilot, but something I would have happily experienced now. Instead I was at home barely able to walk to the kitchen to get my coffee. Steps brought tears to my eyes.

I am on a new page with my back now. Before I will move forth with surgery, I will try a much more aggressive course of medication- steroids, NSAIDS, newer nerve pain meds, and injections. In the meantime I will try to access more help on the rhuematological side, try to regain my ability to eat animal protein, for I cannot imagine how my body can make bone to complement the titanium disk if it is not properly nourished.

As I contemplate all this, I am thinking about time and fire. Am I imagining that I will live forever, free of pain and wild? Would living in the now look more like learning to live with these infirmities? Learning to cultivate the cerebral and travel less? There is much to think about. My two hours of airplane samadhi tomorrow will be a welcome breather.