Capacity
It used to be when you went to a restaurant and ordered a drink it was poured and given to you. I can remember the first time I ordered a drink and was given an empty cup and invited to fill it myself at the soda fountain. I went up and began filling the cup from the spigot, watching the dark liquid rise higher and higher in the cup. I stopped as it got close to the surface. And then when I saw that it was about an inch from the surface I thought, but maybe I could fill it a little more (these in the ancient days before refills). I reveled in the freedom of maximizing my volume! I filled it quite near the top and then walked carefully to my seat, only to slosh some over onto the table upon sitting down. I instantly regretted pushing my luck. Just because something has a capacity doesn’t mean it should be filled to it.
Capacity. Capacity is the maximum amount something can have. We can apply the word capacity to many things including containers, buildings, and rooms. We can even apply it to such things as pain, love, and understanding. People seem to have different capacities for different things depending on personality, experience, temperament, abilities, and even genetic make-up. Yet the recipe for what makes people have different capacities for things is a bit of a mystery.
The first time I can remember seeing that I had a greater capacity for pain than was expected when I broke my arm in second grade. I fell off the bars and landed on my arm. The paramedics were called to the school and asked me to move my hand around, so I did. It hurt but I did it. They said I should be fine. My mom came to get me and on the way home I looked at my swollen arm and my mom asked if it hurt, to which I thought and said, “yes.” We went to get an x-ray and I had my broken arm put into a cast. I learned at a young age to push past pain to do what was required. I had developed this skill because I had been battling nasal polyps and had been dealing with headaches for years. I had pain but I thought everyone did. I had no idea kids were running around and doing things without headaches. Even though I had pain, I did everything anyway without complaining. The following year I would really learn about that. I had surgery and for the year after lived a life without constant headaches. But they came back. Then I was back to pushing through the pain to live my life.
The only problem with learning to live with pain is that pain is not meant to be our companion. It is meant to be a warning. It is meant to be an alert that something needs tending to, to be rested, to be treated. When I have pain I do not treat it as a warning but as a companion. When I was young I ignored a sore throat until I got a rash and was diagnosed with scarlet fever. I ignored abdominal pain until I had to be rushed to the hospital for emergency surgery. I ignored every symptom even last year until I was put to bed with pneumonia for a month. I began going to the gym and did all the exercises even though my shoulder hurt and tore something. I am having to learn now to recognize pain as a warning and heed it. Because if I don’t, and fill myself with pain to my capacity, it will overflow and then I will be in real trouble.
Today when I went to the gym I had a sore shoulder (still) and a sore leg. So I picked the recumbent bike and plugged in a podcast, because that is what my body could handle. My head hurt a bit after the gym so I took a shower and drank some electrolytes juice. As I was pouring it I was careful not to fill it too full. And after I drank it, I felt better.
