On Being Human

Today's post is deeply personal as I share with you my struggle with migraines and embracing my humanity. I end with Affirmations of your Humanity by Enneagram Type. May it be a blessing.

I have been experiencing regular migraines for over three years. I am on medications to prevent and relieve them, have oils to alleviate and comfort, use hot pads and ice packs, am working on getting enough sleep, exercise, and eating the right foods. I’m avoiding triggers as much as possible. (But some triggers are unavoidable. Like the weather or my period. Others, like hunger, I can prepare for.)

Photo by Carolina Heza on Unsplash

Sometimes these things all help and my symptoms are well managed.

Sometimes I will experience the symptoms for 2 weeks.

Sometimes I am angry and discouraged and want to withdraw from the world.

Sometimes I feel good and marvel that this is what existence is like for most people most the time.

Sometimes my body is exhausted and I could sleep for days.

Every time I am reminded that I am human.

And I don’t like it.

It is my experience that our culture doesn’t want us to show our humanity. Emotions are considered weak. Illness must be hidden away. Old age should be covered up. Death must never be witnessed.

So when these unwelcome experiences come knocking and we are unable to show them back out the door, we find ourselves ill-equipped to handle our new housemates. But I wonder, is there another way? After all, age, illness, pain, these all tend to come for all of us.

Uncommon Comfort

Lent wrapped up a few Sundays ago and I had a couple of rough months through that season. I didn’t have the words or energy to form any thoughts around Lent. The chronic migraines have been a season of Lent in itself. A season of loss of normal function and concern about my capacity as I grow older.

I haven’t been able to bear fasting during this time when I feel I need to fast from socializing, working, and sometimes even parenting in order to tend to my physical needs.

But the words of Lent were a comfort to me.

In the story of creation, God formed humans from the dirt and one day to the dirt we will return. Or, “Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust” as the Book of Common Prayer reminds us at funeral services.

If you went to an Ash Wednesday service, your priest or pastor may have blessed you with ashes on your forehead with the words, “Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return.”

Psalm 103:14 reminds us:

For he knows how we were made;
    he remembers that we are dust.¹

The reminders of our mortality in Lent go against our culture’s emphasis on beauty, success, and youth.

The reminder that God remembers I am dust is a comfort to me.

God doesn’t expect us to be greater than we are or extraordinary. The Divine knows we are human. We are the ones expecting ourselves to rise above it all.

God knows, we are limited.

God knows, we are not meant to be gods.

God knows, we have pain and illness and one day we will die.

Because the Divine knows, I know I am not alone in this.

I have been sitting at the feet of teachers who have suffered from chronic pain longer and, dare I say, harder than mine.² Those with cancer and autoimmune diseases. Those seriously injured in accidents and who have undergone multiple surgeries. Those who were given mere months to live. You know what I have learned from them?

Our humanity is a gift.

In embracing our humanity: our bodies, our tears, our imperfections, our limitations, we are set free.

We are free to be our true selves. Not the best. Not the most. Not the greatest. Not perfect.

Simply us.

I believe God desires us to surrender our mad attempts at striving and trying to be and do all the things we think we must.

I think of Jesus who said we are tired and weary from all of the expectations placed on us by those in power but that he came to give rest.

I am encouraged that Jesus knew we would have trouble in this world.

Yet I struggle to trust that I will be okay with my human limitations.

The demands of our gas bill, our medical bills, our insurance… the kids’ need for shoes (again) and new pants (again) and the dentist (again) - all of these tell me I need to work harder.

The expectations of our supervisors and even society of what a functioning adult should look like looks very different from what I think my body is capable of doing right now.

A 40 hour work week is the norm. Many work more hours. The expectation is that parents work, volunteer, raise kind children, keep a clean home, serve homemade meals, and in general go non-stop, sun up to sun down.

If this is what “adulting” is like in the world, it all seems like God must expect and demand as much from me, too.

But when I am in bed (again) with an ice pack on my neck, unable to remember words or bare the sunlight because the migraine has attack my nervous system, I am reminded by grace alone that I am Beloved and whole even in the midst of my humanity. Even with this human body.

I am learning a new way of being, a new kind of life.

I am learning God is the God of all compassion and the Father of all comfort. (2 Corinthians 1:3)

I am reminded that Jesus knows pain, that Jesus wept, that Jesus was hungry, took naps, mourned an imperfect world, got tired of crowds, and had great compassion for those who were sick.

I learn over and over again I don’t have to pull myself up by my bootstraps and prove my worth.

Through practicing the presence of the Divine whether I am in the middle of ordinary day to day life or in the pain of a flair up, I experience I am never alone.

And as I reread this article, I see my back and forth, up and down thoughts and feelings. I see how I move from frustration to hope to frustration to hope to frustration to… I wonder if I should edit it to make it flow. Polish it up.

But this is my experience of life. Frustration to hope and back again.

Rarely polished. Often a mess.

Wherever you are on that continuum, I get it.

You aren’t alone either.

You are human.

Just as you were intended to be.

“God saw everything that he had made, and indeed, it was very good.”

Genesis 1:31

Affirmations of your Humanity by Enneagram Type

Type 1: You are perfectly imperfect.

Type 2: Your needs are okay.

Type 3: Your failures don’t define you.

Type 4: You are not more flawed than anyone else.³

Type 5: You don’t have to know it all.

Type 6: You have what you need.

Type 7: You don’t need to outrun your problems.

Type 8: Your vulnerability is a strength.

Type 9: You were created on purpose.

Here’s an affirmation for all of us: You don’t have to do it alone.

Does your affirmation resonate? What might make it difficult to believe?

Stepping into these affirmations is tricky. It’s hard to believe them much less live from them. I have 3 or 4 openings for Enneagram Coaching going into the summer. Set up a free consultation and we can chat about how I can walk with you towards your True Self.

1. New Revised Standard Version Updated Edition

2. I highly recommend Sarah Bessey’s book Miracles and Other Reasonable Things, KJ Ramsey’s book This Too Shall Last, and Kate Bowler’s books Everything Happens for a Reason: And Other Lies I’ve Loved and The Lives we Actually Have (Cowritten by Jessica Richie)

3. I’m thankful to Sarajane Case for inspiring this affirmation in her book The Honest Enneagram.