Hurter and wiser
If You Break Your Toe, You Will Remember Everything!
No pain, no brain
![a collage with a cartoon image of God, Mother Nature, numbers and a giant foot with a big injured toe](https://zahramart123.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/10/image.png)
Whether you believe in God, Mother Earth, or Mathematical Equations, we can agree the world works in mysterious ways.
And, if you’re not averse to paying attention to its clues, you might begin to understand some of its intentions.
It, being God, Mother Earth, or Mathematical Equations.
If you’re a pessimist and like double negatives, this phenomenon might be explained as nothing happens for no reason. If you hate double negatives and lean towards optimism, a better explanation might be everything happens for a reason.
When my best friend Anya recently shattered her ribs, broke her collarbone, and punctured her lungs on a bike accident, I walked into a 25-pound Peloton weight while carrying a fig plant and fractured my toe.
As I screamed in agony, I looked up at the heavens, or the sun-backed clouds, or the analemma — depending on what you believe in.
Your religion might not have explained this to you, but injuries are a direct line to God, Mother Earth, or Mathematical Equations.
My call from the Above came to me through a fig plant, but there was no denying its message.
The fig plant, in the center of the living room, was interfering with my son’s basketball game.
It was blocking him.
I know it’s important to eventually learn how to block a fig plant, but my son’s not training for college ball yet.
He’s only in middle school. Fig plant defense comes much later. Junior year, I think, unless you’re incredibly advanced.
In my son’s defense, the fig plant had grown more towering than a Redwood. In fact, NASA frequently eminently-domained my plant’s sturdy branches to climb up onto the moon. Somedays they wouldn’t even let me water it.
“Too slippery,” said the astronauts.
The religious or religious adjacent event transpired because I was tired of my son whining about the massive, NASA-funded fig plant in the center of the room.
I stood up quickly, lifted the plant, and stomped through the living room blindly, hefting the Ficus across the room.
My toe never saw it coming.
God, Mother Earth, and Mathematical Equations gifted my oblivious digit with a 25 lb. weight, like a wrecking ball.
Had this accident not occurred, I might have entirely forgotten about Anya’s accident.
Remember her? Or have you already forgotten?
I introduced you to Anya in the fifth paragraph. She was my oldest friend who got massively injured in a bike accident. See how easy it is to forget people when you’re not stubbing your toe?
Each time my bone-crushed toe panged, I was reminded of my friend Anya who was lying on her bed in agony, drugged out on opioids — something far graver than my minor injury and unfashionable splint velcro boot.
I’m not a bad friend. I have a terrible memory. That’s why I would have forgotten to check on Anya, had I not been in incessant pain.
The pain reminded me I wasn’t the only one hurt. The pain made me pick up the phone. The pain made me Facetime her so I could see how she looked, how her bruises were healing. The pain reminded me I was her family now.
Anya has been one of my best friends since 4th grade. To say the last few years of her life have been difficult is an understatement. She has lost both parents and two siblings. She has survived lung cancer and lost 40% of her lung.
When her last sibling passed away, I called my mother and said, “Anya is your daughter now and my sister. Do you understand?” Mom understood. We do what family does now. We call. We check up on her. We send flowers and food. We let her tell us every gory detail of her life.
Anya’s family and ours shared a fence growing up. When I was angry at my parents, I climbed over our fence and talked to her handsome elegant father, who, because he was European, served me a drink.
We stole her sister’s pink-dyed Guess jacket together and traded wearing it at school for a whole day. Then we snuck it back into her sister’s closet. I never looked at that jacket the same. It was contraband.
We had one fight that lasted a year, but we recovered.
She was my first friend when I transferred schools. I remember our shared metal desk. We snuck into the back of the library and read Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret. We dog-eared the dirty parts.
When I started getting invited to boy-girl parties, Anya said, “You’re so lucky” and we briefly lost each other as I wandered off with the less interesting popular people.
When I met her overly emotional creative husband, who was then her fiancé, I said, “Oh my God. You‘re marrying me.”
You think I would remember that my oldest friend almost died in a bike accident, but I forget everything — people, directions, where my keys/phone/car is, why I just walked into this room five minutes ago. What this article is about.
You might be too young to remember the saying “No pain, no gain.”
If you are old enough to remember it, you probably have no idea where your car keys are.
Pain is a reminder. It reminds us we are alive. It reminds us who is alive with us.
If you’re a pessimist, the sad conclusion to this essay might leave you feeling lost and depressed.
If you’re an optimist, however, you’re thrilled you no longer need to rely on your memory, but you can live a perfectly beautiful life by crashing into things.