Freedom is the creative appropriation of limitation
So I just had my right hip replaced, a procedure which I’ve heard referred to as “bone carpentry.” I had an anterior approach, (there’s also posterior and lateral approaches) and I now have an uncemented titanium implant with a ceramic head and a polyethylene liner. That polyethylene liner will likely wear out in 20-30 years and will need to be replaced, necessitating what’s called a “revision” surgery. Revision surgeries are rougher than the original for a few reasons:
the patient is 20-30 years older
there’s a lot of scar tissue around the joint capsule from the original surgery
in my case, I also had an (unsuccessful) arthroscopic surgery on my R hip a year and a half prior to the replacement, so there’s scar tissue from that as well
sometimes the tiny pieces of plastic that have worn away from the polyethylene liner migrate to the tiny spaces between the titanium implants and the bone, loosening those pieces as well and necessitating their replacement too
the incision needs to be bigger to get at all those components
there can be loss of bone stock when those pieces get replaced
…all in all, I’m glad I got the replacement and I’m looking forward to 20-30 years of a great time with my right hip. But it is a unique experience to know that, somewhere between the ages of 59 and 69, I’m going to start experiencing pain deep in my R hip joint, and then will need to undergo this revision surgery at that age. It’s a known limitation of what's possible that, paradoxically, provides me with a lot of freedom. One of my favorite quotes is “Freedom is the creative appropriation of limitation.” The idea of ‘limitlessness’ is dumb and vague; you need a sandbox to play in in order to create. In a weird way, stage 4 arthritis (which I also have in my L hip, according to the xrays) has given me very clear edges to my athletic sandbox. The limited lifespan of the hardware in my R hip not only put a shelf life on certain weightlifting movements and my ability to dance or practice martial arts, but also the restrictions what I can and can’t do with the hardware force me to train differently in the meantime. And this is not a bad thing.
Of course if I had the choice, I’d choose a perfect body with no arthritis - among other modifications. But having clarity about what you can and can’t change is an invaluable asset. I can’t change the arthritis in either hip - and now I can’t go back in time and undo the first surgery, nor the replacement. What I CAN do from here is to modify the way I strength train, dance, and practice martial arts to prolong the life of the hardware in my R hip as much as possible, as well as treat the arthritis in my L hip as intelligently as I can with the non-invasive, non-surgical methods I’m currently studying in Massage School: Gua Sha, cupping, Tui Na, Shiatsu, acupuncture, topical liniments, etc. (I’m in school at Zen Shiatsu in Evanston, studying Shiatsu and Chinese Medicine.)
“Freedom is the creative appropriation of limitation.” Regardless of the nature of your limitation, I believe there’s freedom to be found within those boundaries. And that happiness is not dependent on achieving some sort of unlimited state of being…
-why are the technocrats so obsessed with overcoming death and living forever? That’s creepy and problematic and indicative of a real absence of adult psychological development-
…but rather in learning how to play in the sandbox you’re in in a way that is meaningful and fulfilling for you.
Note: I think the exception to this rule is, obviously, the ongoing struggle for liberation of oppressed people everywhere. The limitations I’m talking about are those that are inevitable parts of life according to Buddhism: sickness, old age, and death, impermanence, (losing something or not getting what you want) and the existential angst of being human - that’s enough of a “sandbox” for anyone, and that does not include systemic racism and white supremacy, patriarchy, homophobia, etc. Fuck those things.