feelings

Gone Fishin’

/ James Browning

If any ask, where have you been
I’ll say gone fishin’ – not a sin
Left my writing on the shelf
Went wandering off to meet myself.

Ask some questions of my heart
Seek some answers, quite apart
I’m not so sought or even known
I cannot steal this time alone.

I’ve gone to check the stock in store
Take stock of my long stored-up lore
Sort out things I have long forgot
Throw out some things begun to rot.

Try to be wise and bring that to bear
On what and when and who and where
Bring order back to things askew
And by such order, see anew

So I open doors a long time locked
Push through hallways long time blocked
Finger ideas, look through thoughts
Shuffle maybes, mights and oughts

Linger long at problem spots
Work at angers tied in knots
Shine a light on cracks and stains
Gaze again at love’s remains

Then slept on memories piled in heaps
Dreamt restless dreams in restless sleeps
Got blackened fingers from the dust
Snorted, sneezed and even cussed

And then I set about the chore
Of making choices and — what’s more
Making wishes and pagan prayers
That I’ll remember — life’s lived in layers

So my fishing trip was all I wished
Because when I sat down and fished
I conjured up the past and more
All of my legends, fables, and lore

But my fishing nets are now set to dry
We reached concord, myself and I
In doubt I left, assured return
Restored in what I found to learn

The present stands now, raw but clean
What was hidden, now been seen
Order again is now manifest
I am at peace, my heart at rest

So I am back to writing out
Things I know a bit about
I put words down to tell my stories
Trailing fishing nets and past glories
Taken from “Gone Fishin” by ‘Wilbur’ http://www.booksie.com

I’ve not really gone fishin’ and am buried in work instead. Just reading the poem freshens my resolve to finish what I’ve started and stay on the path forward. Today that feels like a massive gift I am grateful for.

When you’re unhappy, you get to pay a lot of attention to yourself. And you get to take yourself oh so very seriously. Your truly happy people, which is to say, your people who truly like themselves, they don’t think about themselves very much. Your unhappy person resents it when you try to cheer him up, because that means he has to stop dwellin’ on himself and start payin’ attention to the universe. Unhappiness is the ultimate form of self-indulgence. Tom Robbins

Most Loving Family I Have Known

/ James Browning

 

Last evening my Codependence Anonymous ‘family’ celebrated my fifth year in recovery from codependency.  It was a moving experience just like each anniversary before. “Blessed Are They” below originally posted on April 5, 2012 https://goodmorninggratitude.com/2012/04/05/blessed-are-they/

Codependency is a behavior pattern in which a person tends to form unhealthy relationships. People like me who have engaged in codependent behavior almost always appear to place the needs and desires of other people before their own. These other people often have unresolved emotional issues and sometimes addictions which the codependent person tries to repair, ignore or avoid. That is certainly true with me as I often picked people who needed “fixing”.

Ironically, the source of codependency isn’t about other people – it’s about the relationship with one’s self. Generally this manifests in things like insecurity, deficient self-confidence and even self-loathing. At the core of it all is a scarcity of self-love. Within that condition I spent many years feeling “less than” and that I didn’t measure up. I hid those feelings well and they were rarely noticed by anyone.

One of the tendencies of codependency is difficulty accepting gifts. When someone gives me something, that gift is far from unappreciated. Actually I am thankful beyond my ability to express gratitude. It’s a conflicted feeling of unworthiness in one sense, yet being hugely grateful at the same moment. Talk about bewildering!

Gifts received with difficulty are not just tangible items, but compliments and pats on the back as well. The latter two can be especially hard to accept with a tendency to deflect the good that has been expressed in my direction. At the least there is often some sort of discounting expressed. An example is someone saying to me “you did a great job on that project” with my reply being “no big deal” or “most anyone could have done it”. Receiving positive feedback is highly prized within me but even today I am uncomfortable receiving it. However I have learned to just say “thank you” even though I often blush a little when I do.

There is a tradition in most 12-Step groups to celebrate the annual anniversary of a when a person first got into recovery. Codependents Anonymous is no exception. A brass coin is given which is first “charged” with a few encouraging comments said by each group member one at a time while holding the coin.

The date marking the end of my fourth fifth year was last October, but when it came up in the group to award my coin I always found some excuse to put off the award. I’d say I wanted to make sure “so and so” was at the meeting or something of the sort. Of course I always picked someone who rarely came to the meetings any more as my way of putting it off.

Why I kept dragging my feet on the simple little celebration of my anniversary was simple: Listening to good things said about me on other “recovery birthdays” embarrassed me. I LOVED HEARING THEM but reception of those “gifts of love in words” from the group members conflicted with the conditioning of codependence of not being “worthy”.

Such kindness and love expressed toward me last night brought fidgeting, teared up eyes and even a red face of positive embarrassment more than one. The latter coming from the simple fact that it is still hard to imagine that people like and respect me as much as they said. Yet, I know all spoke honest words from their heart. A day latter the joy still dances in me for the sincere people who said such loving things to me. The little boy who rarely if ever got such praise as a child is happily frolicking within today. I am grateful beyond words to my Wednesday Codependence Anonymous group!

Blessed are they who see beautiful things
in humble places where other people see nothing.
Camille Pissarro

A Song to My Soul

/ James Browning

One of my habits near an addiction level is used books. I have my nose in a book just about every day. My interests have changed over time and rarely do I read anything but non-fiction. Reading to learn and explore has become my driving force and somewhere along the way I picked up a love of poetry. Old or new, if it rhymes with good meter a poem often feels like a song being sung to my soul when I read it.

Used books stores are favorite places and when visiting a city it’s a special treat to visit one of the local stores stocking previously owned books. My favorite in the town where I live is a huge, cluttered and rambling place called “Gardner’s”. The store is not just enjoyable, it is a sort of refuge for me. If I am feeling down, going there is always a pick me up whether I buy something or not. That’s the reason for a late afternoon visit yesterday.

It’s particularly meaningful when I read an inscription a person wrote in a book given as a gift. Other times I find interesting clipped articles that may or may not have anything to do with the subject of the book. Bookmarks left in an old book sometimes present food for thought. Then once in a while I’ll come across family photos and feel a little sad that the images have been separated from the loved ones where they belong. Always before there has been no information on any such photos so I could attempt to return them; at least until yesterday.

On my desk before me are the four photos at the top of this blog. My favorite is the one of the two elementary school children. The others help me to know what they grew up to be. The boy became a military man and the girl became a care giver.

The only date indicated is the bottom middle photo: May 2001. That means the top center photo of brother and sister is from somewhere around the late 70’s, maybe early 80’s. The top center photo has info on back I hope will allow me to return to where they belong: “Nici & Travis Unser, Colo. Spgs, Return to Lynn Unser”.

For all the slams the internet may receive, there are many benefits such as looking up strangers from just a little information (assuming it is done with good intentions such as mine). Here’s what I found that I believe relates to the Unser’s:

Nici and Travis’s father is Al Unser, who retired not long ago as CEO of the Greater Tulsa Association of Realtors. Travis graduated from Bishop Kelly High School in 1996, and in 2000 graduated with a Bachelor of Science degree in Civil Engineering from The Citadel in Charleston, S.C.. In late 2008 he came home from serving his third tour in Iraq as a Naval Aviator with the U.S. Marine Corps. Nici (Nicole) lives in Dallas and is a Neonatal ICU nurse for Baylor University Medical Center. “Nici” was recognized as Nurse of the Year in her unit, and has been nominated for the Dallas’ Great 100 Nurses award. She is a 1993 graduate of Bishop Kelly High School and a 1997 graduate of Baylor University. Here’s the photo that accompanied this info.

With further digging I discovered that Mother, Mary Lynnn Unser, passed away in June of 2007 in Tulsa. Since the little kids photo was back inscribed “Return to Lynn Unser” I feel especially compelled to get these photos back to her family. I am certain the inscription is in her hand.

In the grand scheme it’s not a big deal if I am successful in returning the photographs. Only a small act of kindness will have been accomplished. As emotion wells within, I hope I succeed but realize that the doing of the self assigned task will benefit me most. It is in making a different; in doing little things to make the world slightly better for having been here that are meaningful to me. I am grateful to have grown into my skin over the years to be a gently caring man to whom something like this would matter.

There is overwhelming evidence
that the higher the level of self-esteem,
the more likely one will be to treat others
with respect, kindness, and generosity.
Nathaniel Branden

Threshold of a Dream

/ James Browning

There is a certainty I have “some miles” on me, but also a sense of being far from being old. What puts that vantage point into perspective is knowing a decade from now I will be less than a year from turning seventy. That too does not feel really “old”. However, I know the body slows from my experience so far. In spite of exercise and being active, physical endurance and ability deteriorates over time; more rapidly as age accumulates. None of that was written as sad lamenting, but rather a statement of truth and a warning to myself to not put off my dreams too long.

The adventures I have long dreamed of have their roots in the books I read as a kid and movies I saw then. Reading James Bond novels in middle school gave me a sense of adventure in varying locales, but its 007’s European escapades that stuck with me. Although I’ve traveled Europe a dozen times I have a list of twenty-six countries left to explore. Seeing Tarzan movies with adventurers exploring the jungle looking for some great treasure put into me a love of things exotic and places far away. The need to see what is yet unspoiled in the world gnaws at me. Mark Twain’s Tom Sawyer had adventures that to this day seem like those I should have along a pristine river or backwoods; the small amount of the ‘middle of no where’ still left unadulterated.

Many Americans travel hoping for all the comforts of home in a foreign country, but my view is, if that is what you want why go? I suggest those people stay home and watch travel shows on television. A good part of my love of visiting new places is the sense of unknown, and even discomfort that makes me so completely alive and etches those moments so memorably within. It’s been said that a person becomes smoothed by life from the friction living has upon him or her much like a rock is smoothed by the chafing of fast-moving water in a river. Maybe it is my bad childhood, maybe it is childish sense of exotic voyages, maybe it is at least some part illusion or disillusion; maybe it is wanderlust, but facing the unknown makes me feel completely alive and content. That’s an absolute fact and I know it for certain. If I’m a bit crazy, then I love being nuts!

Sitting here trying to explain myself I come up short of words that accurately express what I feel inside right now. All I know is when contemplating extended travel for weeks on end if not months, my soul lights up in a way that says “yes, yes, yes”, my heart beats a little faster, my mind is electrified with a charged flow of thoughts and I swear my whole body feels aglow with excitement. What can that be other than genuine desire to put my feet on the path of destiny I have been set for since childhood?

There is this logical, rational and even somewhat fearful speaker within saying, “that makes no sense”, “why would you want to do that?”, “you could get robbed/sick/hurt/lost/etc”, “you should be working and saving for retirement” and so on ad nauseam. That voice in my head has led me astray so many times and brought justification for doing what at the depths of my being I truly did not want to do. This must not be forgotten!  Such “thinking” has led me wrong so frequently, but my deep feelings rarely have. What I feel way down at an instinctive spiritual/soul level is centered in my chest reaching down to my stomach. I feel it strongly at this moment as my spirit speaks softly my truth for me to share.

If only I could tell you of the exhilaration I feel from just writing today about being a vagabond traveling the world. There are no words that accurately tell of my beautiful unrest that knows experiencing far beyond what I know is the medicine needed to “live long and prosper”. It won’t be next week or next month, but my great adventure will begin before too much longer. Don’t be surprised if it is next year!!!! I am grateful for the joy I feel at this moment to know my yearning of a lifetime has been spoken aloud to the world and has a chance to come true. I am on the threshold of a dream.

Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things
that you didn’t do than by the ones you did do.
So throw off the bowlines.
Sail away from the safe harbor.
Catch the trade winds in your sails.
Explore.
Dream.
Discover.
H. Jackson Brown Jr.

Who You Really Are

/ James Browning

Something really cool happened today… a break through. When I first began facing the ill effects my dysfunctional family of origin had on me, it seemed like I was wandering around in a dark tunnel swinging at always escaping ghosts. Over time as I stayed in recovery some of my demons were slain; others were faced and death with. I began to see light at the end of the tunnel. Slowly, step by step I started toward the end of it. What I realized today is I’ve made it out of the tunnel and am in the light. I’m ready.

Not all, but most of my fears are gone, most of the time. There are bouts of dealing with old issues, but I get through them just fine. Depression knocks me around sometimes, but only rarely does it get grip on me. On a good or bad day, I’ve gotten better at handling my stuff.

The break through today was I am now standing smack-dab in the middle of a good life ready to be lived fully by a healthy person, physically and emotionally: ME! It’s time to reach for my dreams. How excited I feel. How grateful I am!

It takes courage to grow up
and become who you really are.
E.E. Cummings

Full of Light and Color

/ James Browning

My apologizes if I have gone overboard recently in expressing my love of early fall. It truly is a magnificent time of the year and inspires me beyond any other season. Putting into words how October moves me would be like trying to explain what love is or accurately expressing in words the colors of a western sunset; such things can be attempted, but not accomplished. It is the time of year when my mind is most alive with thoughts brought on largely by the of splendor of autumn contrasted by the naked beauty winter will bring soon after.

“When the Frost is on the Punkin” By James Whitcomb Riley
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder’s in the shock,
And you hear the kyouck and gobble of the struttin’ turkey-cock,
And the clackin’ of the guineys, and the cluckin’ of the hens,
And the rooster’s hallylooyer as he tiptoes on the fence;
O, it’s then’s the times a feller is a-feelin’ at his best,
With the risin’ sun to greet him from a night of peaceful rest,
As he leaves the house, bareheaded, and goes out to feed the stock,
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder’s in the shock.

They’s something kindo’ harty-like about the atmusfere
When the heat of summer’s over and the coolin’ fall is here—
Of course we miss the flowers, and the blossums on the trees,
And the mumble of the hummin’-birds and buzzin’ of the bees;
But the air’s so appetizin’; and the landscape through the haze
Of a crisp and sunny morning of the airly autumn days
Is a pictur’ that no painter has the colorin’ to mock—
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder’s in the shock.

The husky, rusty russel of the tossels of the corn,
And the raspin’ of the tangled leaves, as golden as the morn;
The stubble in the furries—kindo’ lonesome-like, but still
A-preachin’ sermuns to us of the barns they growed to fill;
The strawstack in the medder, and the reaper in the shed;
The hosses in theyr stalls below—the clover over-head!—
O, it sets my hart a-clickin’ like the tickin’ of a clock,
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder’s in the shock!

Then your apples all is gethered, and the ones a feller keeps
Is poured around the celler-floor in red and yeller heaps;
And your cider-makin’s over, and your wimmern-folks is through
With their mince and apple-butter, and theyr souse and saussage, too! …
I don’t know how to tell it—but ef sich a thing could be
As the Angels wantin’ boardin’, and they’d call around on me—
I’d want to ’commodate ’em—all the whole-indurin’ flock—
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder’s in the shock.

The seasons have often been used as a metaphor for life… and some say fall is middle age. So far it is the season of living I have loved best and when I have grown most. Soon comes winter; the time of sweaters and jackets and scarves and gloves. Clothes not worn in six months will feel new again. For me autumn is a time of joy beyond explanation and I am grateful for every red, yellow and gold moment of it.

How beautifully leaves grow old.
How full of light and color are their last days.
John Burroughs

As One Might Make An Offering

/ James Browning

There are mornings like today where specific inspiration for writing of my gratitude is outside my grasp. On those days I seek out a favorite writer or a poem dear or else seek out something I have not read before. On some occasions I try my hand at verse. How quickly rhyming words come or how laborious the task feels tells me how clear my thoughts are. Today in my books I found two poems I had not read before and eight lines of poetry fell together for me in minutes. As one might make an offering at the foot of an altar, I lay these are your feet today in hopes they are of good use to you.

“Mystery” by Kenneth L. Patton
Only those who do not know
where’s the home of mystery
look outside the day to day
you and I and all can see.
Mystery is in our minds
hid behind the quiet thought,
under feet, upon our tongues,
anywhere it is not sought.
Mystery is not outside,
But inside the ears and eyes,
in the clasping of the hand
in our unsurprised surprise.
Mystery, bold on the top,
out upon the ample air
hides itself successfully
just by being everywhere.

“If I Knew You & You Knew Me” by Nixon Waterman
If I knew you and you knew me,
If both of us could clearly see,
And with an inner sight divine,
The meaning of your heart and mine,
I’m sure that we would differ less,
And clasp our hands in friendliness;
Our thoughts would pleasantly agree,
If I knew you and you knew me.

“We Want” by James Browning
We want to know the unknowable,
To see what can’t ever be seen.
We want to hide from high and low
With only joy; no sadness in between.
Like flapping arms expecting to fly,
We run through life mindlessly fast,
Pretending sincerely we won’t die,
But only for our time do we last.

This line appears on my screen as the first gaggle of honking geese go flying over my home signaling the certainty of the change of seasons. So much I have to be grateful for, but at this moment I chose to express only two: 1) my thankfulness for great writers that have inspired me since I was a child; 2) the cooler days of fall are here. To openly be grateful for a thing or two makes me feel full of life as I embrace the new day.

I’m not young enough to know everything
J.M.Barrie

Believe In Love More Today

/ James Browning

I was in love with love before I knew what it was. When one lives with lack of affection as I did as a young child, the yearning to fill that hole starts early and never completely leaves. Even understanding today that what went on when I was a kid placed an unnecessary deep need within does not diminish my desire to be loved and appreciated. That’s ironic because love is also a fairly scary for me.

In regards to love I frequently have not known exactly what to do or say, but always have wanted to do it to perfection. Without a stutter or hesitation has been how I have desired to express my truest feelings, yet hesitate and have great difficulty successfully following through on my intention. Or else I go too far and gush forth with such expression of feeling the object of my affection does not what to do with it all. I’m great with family and friends, but in a romantic relationship I always feel like I am thirteen years old again; an unsure, stumbling boy. Actually for me that is some of the charm of it all; I am still excited about the possibilities of love.

Even today I am not tired of love as so many in middle age seem to be. “Been there, done that” is the attitude I hear often from singles in my peer group. The “put downs” of the opposite gender are often spoken by such people frequently as a cover for their bad choices. Well, sorry folks, till my last dying breath I will never adopt such attitudes.  I’ve made my mistakes, but believe in love more today than I ever have.

From one of many of the books I have accumulated on love comes the following advice:

What does the one you love really want from you? The answer is “you”. So that’s what you ought to give. “You”, in your own style and own words. Don’t try to write like a poet, unless tha’s what you really want to do. The point is, you don’t have to write like a poet to say what you want to say, nor is that the standard you will be judged by.

What you will be judged by is feeling, thoughtfulness, enthusiasm and, most of all, sincerity. Could any poet convey those qualities to the one you love better than you? Not Shakespeare himself!

Letting go of your inhibitions will add immeasurably to the enthusiasm that you feel and transmit. And in communication, enthusiasm is as contagious as it is credible. The real you, and the assurance that you love him or her in your own way, in your own words. That’s what he or she wants to hear and see from you. Nothing more, nothing less.

Remember too, you are writing to only one person who is not going to judge you like an English teacher, because that person is your most understanding friend and is interested in one thing: to know how you feel about her or him, in your own words.

How can you lose? Your audience is totally on your side, and all it wants is what you and you along are capable of delivering. An honest expression of your love that will be as individual as your fingerprint. From “You Don’t Have To Be A Poet To Put Your Love Into Words” by James D. Donovan

With great gratitude I say, “I am deeply grateful for the ability to love and can be loved”. My openness for love is a gift that goes against the grain of age. I am thankful to be able to easily go against the flow.

In the one we love, we find our second self.
Love is the beauty of the soul.
To love abundantly is to live abundantly,
to love forever is to live forever.
There is exquisite beauty in the heart that cares and loves.
Love believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.
Unknown

Life Began To Like Me

/ James Browning

A time comes in your life when you finally get it… When in the midst of all your fears and insanity you stop dead in your tracks and somewhere, the voice inside your head cries out – ENOUGH!

Enough fighting and crying, or struggling to hold on. And, like a child quieting down after a blind tantrum, your sobs begin to subside, you shudder once or twice, you blink back your tears and through a mantle of wet lashes, you begin to look at the world through new eyes.

This is your awakening…

You realize that it’s time to stop hoping and waiting for something to change, or for happiness, safety and security to come galloping over the next horizon. You come to terms with the fact that he is not Prince Charming and you are not Cinderella and that in the real world, there aren’t always fairy tale endings (or beginnings for that matter) and that any guarantee of “happily ever after” must begin with you and in the process, a sense of serenity is born of acceptance. From “The Awakening” by Sonny Carroll http://www.inspirationpeak.com/library/awakening.html

Oh, I wanted to be pampered and I wanted to be
petted;
I thought that Life should run to me with comfort when I
fretted,
And so I used to wail for joys I had no means of
buying,
But Live went on about its work and never heard
me crying.

I used to fly in tantrums when some pleasure was
denied me;
I fancied everyone was wrong who raised a voice
to chide me.
I thought that Life should run to me with pretty
things to show me,
But Life when on about its work and never seemed
to know me .

I know not how the thought began nor why so long
it lasted;
I wanted cake and pie to eat while others bravely
fasted;
I wanted easy talks to do, high pay without the
labor,
But Life, I noticed, passed me by to visit with my
neighbor.

Then suddenly I faced about – stopped my senseless
whining,
Took disappointment with a grin and loss without
repining;
I found that woes were everywhere and some would
surely strike me;
I strapped my burdens on my back – and Life
began to like me.
“Awakening” by Edgar Guest

While there are still some moments I regret what’s behind me, the strength of the yearning to do it all again lessens within the new awareness of recent years. Even though I am uncertain frequently of my precise direction, the way forward is a much wider view; one I’m open to in whatever guise it comes. All I have to do is keep going. With my head up and an open heart and mind, being alive comes without much struggle today. I am grateful the days of arm-wrestling life in a storm is behind me. My awakening in 2007 was a second birth on this Earth, one I embrace with much gratitude and thankfulness.

The tragedy of life is not that it ends so soon,
but that we wait so long to begin it.
W.M. Lewis

Only the Dead Don’t Feel It

/ James Browning

My supposition is that life would be boring if things were always good. Fact or delusion, that’s a mantra that rings in my head to help me keep going. Life just gets damned difficult sometimes.

There’s a well-worn phrase that goes “its, not what happens, but how you react to it that matters”. My conclusion is there is wisdom in that statement to keep one from making something dreadful far worse than need be. However, what is awful will still be terrible. All practicing the “how you react” train of thought can do is impact how deep and engulfing the pain, grief or misery becomes. To think I can stop myself from feeling unpleasant things entirely is pure foolishness. What I put off ends up hurting worse later anyway.

Life is painful and messed up. It gets complicated at the worst of times, and sometimes you have no idea where to go or what to do. Lots of times people just let themselves get lost, dropping into a wide open, huge abyss. But that’s why we have to keep trying. We have to push through all that hurts us, work past all our memories that are haunting us. Sometimes the things that hurt us are the things that make us strongest. A life without experience, in my opinion, is no life at all. And that’s why I tell everyone that, even when it hurts, never stop yourself from living. Alysha Speer

Ready for my rant? Here goes. So much of a quandary my life is these days: single and not wanting to be; lonely, but afraid to let someone get really close; so tired of my work but addicted to the money; unable to see more than a vapor of what my future might be; too regretful of my past and unable to fully put some of it behind me; not completely comfortable with my age but trying to not let it show; working hard to get in shape with frustrating slow progress; far more loving than I know how to comfortably show; misunderstood by just about everyone I have ever known; good progress in recovery from codependence while aggravated some of the dysfunction will always exist; wanting to travel the world for months at a time yet fearful of taking the leap…. oh, woe is me; gripe, gripe, gripe and it’s exhausting!

Life will break you. Nobody can protect you from that, and living alone won’t either, for solitude will also break you with its yearning. You have to love. You have to feel. It is the reason you are here on earth. You are here to risk your heart. You are here to be swallowed up. And when it happens that you are broken, or betrayed, or left, or hurt, or death brushes near, let yourself sit by an apple tree and listen to the apples falling all around you in heaps, wasting their sweetness. Tell yourself you tasted as many as you could. Louise Erdrich

It should come as no surprise that I am working my way through a few days of my cycling depression that comes around every few weeks for a few days. These are times the half missing in the glass is painfully obvious and I’m too stymied to see much of the half full part. This will pass. It always does. But for the time I wrestle depression it feels like trying to swim in quicksand; moving with great effort and getting no where fast.

My gratitude is for knowing what is going on. For years I had no explanation for these days that sucked badly. So I will use the weapon I’ve learned that helps me walk through these dark days: “fake it until I make it”. I’ll put on a smile and show the world sunshine instead of my darkness. Just because I feel bad doesn’t mean I should make others feel it with me. Hello world, here I come.

Everyone is down on pain,
because they forget
something important about it:
Pain is for the living.
Only the dead don’t feel it.
Jim Butcher