The losing end

One of my all time favorite album covers is from Neil Young's second studio album, Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere. I'm not sure what it is about the picture, but it was burned into my mind at an early age and has stuck with me. The album contains four of his signature hits: Cinnamon Girl, Down by the River, Cowgirl in the Sand, and the title track, all of which were written in a single day when Neil had a 103F fever. It was also the first album with his longtime backing band Crazy Horse.

This morning I woke up thinking of a lesser-known song from the album though: The Losing End (When You're On). It's a simple song with a country sound. There's really nothing spectacular about it. But... sometimes we can feel like that, can't we?

It's so hard for me now
But I'll make it somehow
Though I know I'll never be the same
Won't you ever change your ways
It's so hard to make love pay
When you're on the losing end
And I feel that way again

If you disregard the lines I crossed out... it's a refrain of mine right now.

I had my second physical therapy treatment yesterday and came home near defeated. Not only was I physically beaten (and my leg and foot bruised), but I was even more mentally and emotionally drained. I hadn't been that low in a long time.

I couldn't stand the pain of the dry needling. The fact that she hit a blood vessel or something didn't help. Apparently the PT was taking the scraping out on me for that. I have literally not been in so much pain in as long as I can remember. She honestly had to get me a sweat towel because I was perspiring so bad!

As I said, the mental anguish was likely worse than the physical pain. Therapy hurt worse than it did to run, and it seemed that particular identity is become more distant with each step.

So, after having surgery in December for this stupid belly button hernia... my blood pressure is out of control, my legs won't recover from the last marathon, we are yet to find a church home, I still have no inclination towards a different job, the situation with my parents continues to get more stressful, and... "...I know I'll never be the same..."

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This morning I read from 'Common Prayer: A Liturgy For Ordinary Radicals' something Bernard of Clairvaux (a 12th century Cistercian reformer) wrote:

"The first step of pride is curiosity. How does it show itself? Here is an example. There stands a monk who up to this time had every appearance of being an excellent monk. Now you begin to notice that wherever he is, standing, walking or sitting, his eyes are wandering, his glance darts right and left, his ears are cocked. Some change has taken place in him; every movement shows it. These symptoms show that that monastic's soul has caught some disease. One who used to watch over his own conduct now is all watchfulness for others."

I've never considered myself a prideful person. Though I suppose if I am the one defining it, I would never define it in terms of myself. Especially if I were full of pride.

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And so my mind meanders to Jesus' words in Matthew 16:25, "For anyone who keeps his life for himself shall lose it; and anyone who loses his life for me shall find it again."

Hmm... maybe losing isn't all it's cracked down to be. Perhaps, when you're on the losing end, you are actually on your way. To somewhere...

I don't know.