I woke up today.

The pain in my hip and back were at it again. For the past three weeks it's been vying for the spotlight in the story of my life. Two doctors told me it was a herniated disc. The pakcik I saw in Kedah said "Ini bukan pasai tulang. Ini urat hang bengkak". Whatever it is, it was bugging me again. The hot shower was doing little to take my mind off it. I increased the heat, hoping...well I don't really know what I was hoping for. Maybe that I might confuse my head into forgetting the pain for a while. Or that the hot water might magically cure me.

Then I realized something. Something that we tend to take for granted most of the time. I realized that I feel pain. And I thanked Allah that I did. Dead people don't feel pain. Yet we curse it. We wish we never had to feel it.

Shifting my focus from the pain in my back to the ends of my hand, I noticed my fingers. Ten beautiful digits. Appendages that bend and grip and stretch. We tend to not notice these things in our daily hustle and bustle, busily going about striving for that elusive 'success' that everyone seems to be hellbent on. So hellbent that we forget that most of what we do in trying to achieve this success depend so much on those ten little digits. I thank Allah for my fingers.

Then I see my toes. I'm pretty sure standing up would be a bitch without them. I thank Allah for my toes. And my feet. My hands. My legs. My arms. My body. My head with which I can see, and hear, and talk, and think. And remember things. Yet we always seem to forget these little things.

Some greek guy said, "I cried because I didn't have shoes. Until I saw a man without feet".

I woke up today. Tomorrow I hope I wake up again.