Day 139 “The Sovereign”

While Thor recovered from his fifth surgery, I returned home for a short respite.  Thinking I could catch up with sleep and household chores, I welcomed the break.
I looked forward to some ‘me’ time.

What I encountered instead was a tsunami of emotions – anger, grief, disbelief, desperation, and depression, among others.  Caught off guard, I fought to keep them under control, distracting myself with mundane activities, trying to run from feeling.

I called up any available friends, and when that failed, I collapsed into myself.

What I couldn’t shake was the idea that my depressed state was completely selfish.  The voice in my head said:  “You have nothing to be upset about”, and I agreed.  It was Thor who was in hospital and who would have to endure more procedures.  It was Thor who was living through pain and myriad doses of medication.  My job was to support him, and in my current state of emotions, I felt ill-equipped to do that.

Derek Lin suggests that we have power over ourselves, as our own sovereign.  He suggests that when depression sets in we have to “(r)ewrite the meaning of the event.”

It will take me some time to work through this possibility.  What I feel now is compounded not only by the reality we face, but also the extensive guilt that overwhelms me.  My anxiety has clouded my ability to think clearly and cope with everyday tasks, sapping great amounts of energy, and as a result, I am off work.  I am not accomplishing the things that I believe I should be able to do.

Thor will be having surgery number six before I am able to bring him home again.  In that time, I need to find a constructive way to deal with my emotions.  He doesn’t deserve, nor should he have to feel responsible for my emotional turmoil.

 

 

Day 138 “Cloud Hands”

Cloud Hands, Derek Lin explains in The Tao of Joy Every Day, is a tai chi technique which represents the proper way to deal with confrontation – with “softness and deflection”.

Today’s reflection brings to mind a funny story about Thor, who I consider to be an expert at diffusing and managing difficult situations.

My eldest daughter, Marie, lived in a cheap basement apartment during her last year of college.  The building was not well maintained, and the landlord was haphazard about paying the utility bills.  As a consequence,  Marie and her roommate came home twice to discover that the hydro had been shut off and the food in their fridge was ruined.  To complicate things further, the heat was shut off in the midst of a cold snap, and the two girls were beside themselves.  They refused to pay any more rent until the situation was resolved.

Thor advised the girls to take the matter to court, and allow a judge to decide how they should proceed.  He and I were dating at this point, and Marie did not know him very well.  He offered to accompany the two young women, which they readily accepted.

Mid-morning I got a frantic phone call from my daughter.  “Mom,”  she blurted.  “I think Thor is about to beat up my landlord!”

I could not imagine Thor beating anyone up, so I asked her to explain further.

“When we got to court, it turns out that Thor knows our landlord.  They exchanged a few words, and then Thor asked him to step outside so they could settle it.  He’s going to beat him up!  What should I do!”

“Calm down, Marie.”  I assured her.  “I am pretty sure he is not the fighting type.”

“Mom, you are not here!  You didn’t hear it!”

“I know, Honey, but I know Thor.  There is some misunderstanding.  Call me back when you know what is going on.”

I hung up, wondering.  “Step outside and we’ll settle this” is an invitation to fight; had I misjudged Thor?

Thor himself called me when it was all over.  “Everything is settled,”  he said.  “The girls will be reimbursed for groceries lost, and he is giving them a break on the rent.”

“Ah, Thor, how did you get him to agree to all this?”

“When we got to court, I recognized John immediately.  I didn’t know he was their landlord.  I knew John and I could sort it out; we didn’t need the court process, so I asked him to step outside….what’s so funny.”

“When Marie heard you say “Let’s step outside and settle this”, she thought you were going to beat him up.”

Thor joined in with my laughter, as did Marie when we explained it.

“Violence doesn’t solve anything, Sweetie.”  Thor told Marie.  “It only compounds the problem.  I really just wanted to step outside and settle the issue. And that’s what we did.  Reasonably, as two adults can.”

 

 

 

Criticism Be Gone!

I was forty before I could finally ask my mother about her constant criticism of me growing up.   We were alone together, in the car, driving out of town.  I had her undivided attention.

th-4“Help me to understand, something,” I prefaced the conversation.  “When I was young, you always told me no one would ever love me.  What was that about?”

“I didn’t say it to be mean,”  she explained and I believed her.  My mother was not typically a malicious person.  “It’s just that you were so different from your sisters, and I was afraid for you.  I thought I was helping you by preparing you for the inevitable.”

“But why, Mom?  What was it about me that you thought was unloveable?”

“You were just so smart, and independent minded……”  she trailed off.  “I guess I thought that men don’t like smart women.”

“Do you understand that I heard what you said to mean that I was impossible to love?”

“Oh my God, that is not what I intended at all!  Of course you are loveable.  You are compassionate and kind, and you deserve to be loved.  I thought I was preparing you, that’s all.  You were just so different,  and I thought I had to protect you.  I never meant for you to think you weren’t loveable.”

She paused in reflection.

“When the school came to us and told us they had done some testing and wanted to send you to a special school for the gifted, I was scared.  I didn’t know how to handle it.  Your father was all for it, but all I could think about was how would you fit in, and who would ever love you.  I guess I thought I was helping.  You were an enigma to me.”

Mother’s criticism of me was born out of fear and ignorance;  my acceptance of her harsh words was a reflection of my need for her approval. 

I understood.  Within the context of my mother’s upbringing and beliefs, I did not fit the mold.  She was merely expressing fear related to her own limitations.  Unfortunately, for the first forty years of my life, I lived out my mother’s legacy, choosing partners who were incapable of loving me.

My mother was not the only one to be critical of my intellectual abilities.  “Everyone hated you,”  a drunken cousin once confessed to me, then added, “but I don’t know why – you’re so nice.”  Classmates called me Browner, implying that I only got good grades because I ‘kissed up’ to the teachers.   Even close friends have commented that I’m not really that smart.

By listening to the criticism, I began to devalue myself.  Driven by a need to be accepted, I started to act dumb.  Better to deny self than to be criticized, right?

Wrong!

Embracing criticism and taking it to heart is ultimately a sin against the self.  We are each uniquely created, and destined, and it is only through accepting our differences, and nurturing them, that we can truly be fulfilled.

th-3Rejecting criticism is the first step to living authentically, and the only hope for living purposefully and to full potential.

Armed with this new understanding, I will stop apologizing for who I am.  I will let go of the need for praise from others, and recognize that their criticism is more about their process than mine, and let it be.  I will celebrate who I am by committing to my own process, and focusing on my goals and gifts.

I will finally start living.

 

 

 

 

Day 136 “The Strong Wind”

Thor and I were attempting to settle into sleep the other night when he mentioned that his back was hurting.  As I applied ointment to soothe his aches, I noticed that he was quite warm.  Despite the antibiotics, he had spiked a fever.

We contacted the doctor and made our way back to hospital, where Thor has just undergone his fifth surgery in five months.  Unbelievable!

As if battling cancer, then a torn quad, is not enough, Thor will now have to do battle with this insistent infection.  In the next little while he will need surgery again to close up the wound, and likely again when he gets transferred to another hospital where they specialize in wound care.

It feels as if Thor and I are currently living inside a little bubble which exists alongside the rest of reality, but is not part of it.  People come and go within the bubble, however, Thor and I are the only ones who have to live it and face it every day.  Even I cannot begin to understand what must be going through Thor’s heart and mind.

I do know this: Both of us are exhausted and discouraged.   There is some situational depression, many tears, and bouts of anxiety.  There is anger and frustration.  There is never a thought of giving up.

I also know this:  We are doing everything that we can to seek professional help and take care of ourselves.  It isn’t always perfect, and no doubt there is always another way, but we are coping.

While we are grateful for the many heartfelt expressions of caring, I ask that everyone remember our bubble, and picture how fragile and vulnerable is to be existing like this right now.  Let us know that you care, but please do so gently.

Be the whispering breeze that soothes us, not the strong wind.

 

 

 

Whale Dreaming

I dream: 

We are in an open row boat, crossing a river, when I see a dark shape in the water below.  “That looks like a whale” I say.  “But how can it be?”  Yet as I watch the figure pass and emerge from the water, my suspicions are confirmed:  it is a whale.  It breaks free of the water and appears like a cartoon of a whale hovering over the river. “We are on the St Lawrence” Ric offers, and I understand, but how did we get here? 

Back home, my cousin drops by.  “I have rented a cottage in PEI, and I’m looking for someone to join me,” she says.  “I’ll put the word out,” I respond before realizing that I could join her.  Why not?  “I was hoping for that,” she smiles.  We make our plans – whether to go by car or fly.  I am excited.  “You can see whales from the shore,” I exclaim. 

Well, whales are different from snakes, and hopefully, an improvement.  We have been whale-watching twice, and both times it has been incredible, and awe-inspiring.  Whales are gentle creatures, despite their size.  To be close to a whale is to marvel at the power and grace of Nature.

So why whales?

Dreams bring us symbols and metaphors that speak to what lies below our conscious, ego, selves.  For the past seven months, my husband has been battling cancer as well as trying to heal from two accidents, and now four surgeries.   Up until a few weeks ago, we have both attempted to keep up with the normal pace of life, but the pressure has broken me, and I have succumbed to the stress.  I am exhausted by the emotional and psychological strain, physically incapable of keeping up.

It is as if we are crossing a wide river in an open row boat – crossing a wide, unknown river, with little protection from the elements – yes, that is how it feels.  We keep going even though we feel inadequate and we aren’t quite sure we know where this is leading us.

It is as if a large creature lurks in the water below us.  That large creature could be cancer, loss of life, or healing and renewal.  We have no way of knowing right now.  In the dream, it looks like a whale, but it ends up being a cartoon caricature of a whale.  Does that mean that my imagination has got the better of me, or that what appears to be so overwhelming will, in the end, seem trivial?

It is as if I have an opportunity to travel to P.E.I. with my cousin.  The cousin in my dream was one I looked up to and admired.  She suffered ill health for much of her life, but maintained an attitude of quiet acceptance until her death at the age of 53.  To have the chance to spend some time with her would give me new perspective and understanding.  P.E.I is not a place I have ever visited, but have been interested in.  It exemplifies simplicity and rural peacefulness, although my brother says it is too commercial.  He thwarted my one attempt to visit P.E.I. by rerouting me to Grand Manan, an island in the Bay of Fundy.  I definitely watched whales off the coast of this tiny island, and they accompanied our ferry ride to and fro.  It was the highlight of my trip.

So how does this dream apply to my life right now?  In the dream, I seem to lack clarity, not picking up on the signals and opportunities.  I am not aware of where I am, and question what I see, and when opportunity does come my way, I am slow on the uptake.

I do feel confused, and lacking clarity right now.  I worry that I am not taking the right course of action, and that I might be missing out on important opportunities.  While my husband seems to know where we are, I do not have my bearings.

In the dream, I am hoping to see whales.  How is this a metaphor for my life?  I want to experience the numinous – I want to feel the presence of something larger than life, something so magnificent that it will make me stop in awe and believe again.

I need a sign or an omen that will waken me from this nightmare of survival and remind me once again, that while this is one ‘whale of a tale’ that we are living, it only a moment in the greater scheme of things.  I need to be reminded of the miracle of Nature.

I need to remove myself from the constant churning of fear and anxiety and retreat to a place where time stands still and simplicity is the norm.  I need to slow down and let my heart calm.

(Image:  sam1311415102.blogspot.com)

 

Day 134 “The Illusion”

Today’s reflection offers a formula:  Estimate the number of years you have left, subtract a third for sleep, and another third for eating and working, and that is the time you have left to accomplish something.

I have 11 years, providing I live to 88.

Hmmmm!

Day 133: “Dynamic Exchange”

Daylight beckons me to stir out of my bed, but a relentless heaviness drags me under into the realm of sleep and dreaming.

The path I walk on is covered by water, like a shallow trough. It is a gray, overcast day.  To my right the landscape drops off revealing a large body of water below, which flows beneath the place we stand.  We must be on a bridge, I think.   A female companion walks just before me, oblivious to our surroundings, but me, I am captivated by the movement of snakes in the water below.  “Look!” I exclaim.  “Look at how magnificently they navigate the water.”  We both stop to look as a long, earthen-toned snake effortlessly glides side to side passing beneath us.   Relieved to view them from a distance,  I suddenly notice movement in my peripheral vision:  a large water snake is headed our way, its head poised as if to strike.   How can this be?  The water here is very shallow.  I alert my friend and step out of the water onto the muddy bank to the left.  The ground here is steep, with patchy clumps of overgrown coarse grass.  I step carefully to get a good footing hoping the snake will not follow me on land.  It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust, but when they do, I see that an even larger, earth-coloured snake is coiled  in a shallow hollow only a step away from where I am.  I try to warn my friend,  but am too late.  She jumps out of the water and throws herself directly into the mushy mass of snake.  “Back up carefully,” I warn her, trying to discern the head of the snake in this enormous coil.  “But try to move quickly.”  The large mass slowly comes to life, shifting its weight, readying for movement.

Startled, I awaken.  Not again!

I have dreamt of snakes frequently over the past several months, each one prefacing change within our lives.  I have come to dread their appearance.  But these snakes are different, not the bright coloured greens, reds, or blues of previous dreams.  These blend into their surroundings, natural components of a larger ecosystem.

I wonder what message they bring.  And who is the woman that accompanies?  I decide to let her speak:

As I trudge along the shallow waterway, I see only miles of barren, grey landscape before me.  Something looms in the far distance, be it denser, black clouds, or mountains, I cannot tell: the greyness of this day offers no light for clarification.  The water at my feet is not cold, despite the lack of sunshine, nor are there rocks to heed my pace; it simply appears that the path has recently filled with water that otherwise wouldn’t belong here.  The passageway is narrow, and doesn’t offer any apparent alternative routes, so we carry on, carefully making our way.  The woman who follows me is distracted, lacking intent, and I am afraid she is going to hinder our progress.  She stops to observe snakes that swim in the waters far below us.  This has once been an old train trestle, I believe, a passage carved in the side of this hill, overlooking an expanse of inland water.  The scene might be beautiful on another day, but the land has not yet recovered from the harsh winter, and the landscape appears battered, with only dried up stumps of what was greenery in a better time.  I observe the snakes and wonder at her fascination.  Does she not share my desire to be clear of this place; to move on?  I sigh.  Suddenly, she warns me of a snake approaching.  Instinctively, I leap from the water and throw myself on the earth beside me.  I land not on solid ground, but on a warm, springy mass, that first recedes, then expands, repelling me.  I hear the warning:  Move cautiously, and scramble to gain my footing, horrified that I have met my doom.  Is this how it will all end? 

 

Maybe we need to let the snake speak:

I am as old as all time, and I have grown and grown over the years, until my size has become legendary.  Some think me lazy.  Others run in very fear of my physical enormity.  Few know me well.  When times get hard, I curl myself up and sleep it off.  Not much you can do to change things, I’ve learned, so why try to fight.  Just go with it.  Curl up, and wait for a new day to dawn.  Detached inaction, I call it.  This certain kind of grayness that lingers in the air is one of those times.  That sky is one endless huddle of clouds, obliterating the sun and any hope of a clear day.  I have dug myself a nice comfortable hollow in which to coil up for a long rest.  Or at least, that is what I thought, until some out-of-control woman, bent on some foolish mission, comes along and disrupts my sleep!  Scared herself silly – so silly, she didn’t even see me lying there.  Now, I know I am fairly well camouflaged – and that has helped me survive for so long, no doubt – but there ain’t no mistaking my massive curves, if you’re paying attention.  I know I am slow to react, and like to just let things roll  off my back, but this woman got to me.  The full of weight of her jumped on my sleeping back, and I am not taking that lightly.  I need to get  a look at this disturbance.  I blow myself up to full size, pushing her off me, and begin to stretch.  Ohhhh that feels good – the first stretch of the day, coming out of a long slumber.  I stretch and breath in a long, satisfying inhale, waking up each and every fiber of my inner strength.  I unwind, raising my head and opening my eyes.  Two women are beside me, or should I say, besides themselves.  One, the perpetrator, is struggling to regain composure.  The other carefully stepping out of my way.  “Hello Ladiesss”, I say, disarming them yet again.

“So sorry,” the clumsy one mutters.  “Didn’t mean any harm, really.”

I see the head of another snake go slithering by, laughing, and realize that he has been the culprit.  “Ssstartled, were you?” I ask.

“What?  Oh, yes!”  Then the inevitable:  “You talk!”

“Well, yesss, I do.  Sssshould we wassste time on that?”

“Oh no!”  exclaims the other.  ” Not at all.  We are very sorry to have disturbed you.  Can we ask you a few questions?”

“Give it a ssshot,”  I hiss.

“First off, where are we?  Is it always so glum?”

“Ahh, yes….glum.  Well, not always, no.  Recently, certainly.”  I ponder the first question.  “Where are we?  Well only one answer to that:  Where aren’t we?”

“I don’t understand.”  The fallen woman seemed to be regaining her composure.

“It’s a riddle,” said the other.  “She speaks in riddles.”

Clever girl, I think to myself.

“But why?  What is the point in that?”

“You are my practical side, aren’t you?” the clever woman addresses the other.  “You are the one that keeps moving even when there is no apparent direction and all looks hopeless.”

“Well….yes.  What else would you want me to do? Sit down in the muck and let it overwhelm me?”

“It’s not ssso bad asss that,” I offer.  “I wasss quite comfortable before you two came along.”

They both look at me.

“Are you going to eat us?”  The practical one asks.

I guffaw.  “Terrorize you maybe, but eat you never.  You are too full of poison and toxinsss for my liking.”

“We’re what?”

“She’s talking about your diet.  We have been eating a lot of junk recently.”

The practical ones just nods.

“Pretty hard to terrorize now that you’ve spoken to us, though,”  the clever one offers.  “What are you doing here?”

“Been here forever,”  I glibly respond.  “Question should be:  what are you doing here?”

“Things are not going well for us.”  Practical One states.

“I have been struggling with anxiety and depression,”  the other offers.  “We have been trying for quite a while to stay on the straight and narrow, but I just couldn’t do it anymore.  Too much uncertainty.”

“So she brought us here,”  Practical add defiantly.

“Look, I know you are disappointed, but I have limits.  What was the point to pushing on anyways?”

“Ladiessss, I ssee your dilemma.  One of you jussst wantsss to maintain the ssstatusss quo, while the other wantsss change.”  Their glances tell me I’m on the right track.

“Do you know how many times she has stepped off the path?”  Practical sounds more venomous then I ever have.  “She is always changing her mind, taking us on side trips, losing her perspective.  She would rather we live our life unpredictably, without security and reliability.  Can you imagine what others think of us?”

“And I think your narrow-mindedness and conventionality has led us astray.  What if we are missing out on our true life purpose?  What if all this catering to norms is making us miss our calling?  Maybe we’re not meant to conform.”

“That sounds like a cop out to me!  What are you afraid of?”

“I’m afraid of living life to someone else’s drumbeat, not my own.  I am afraid of never really living out my potential, out of fear that it might not please others.  Who cares what others think?”

“You are missing my point!”

“Which is?”

“That a certain amount of conformity is necessary for survival.  If we don’t keep trucking, this place is all we are ever going to know.  We’ll get stuck here.  How depressing would that be?”

“So what would you have us do instead.  The same thing over and over, hoping someday it will produce a different outcome?  That is the definition of insanity.”

“Ahem!”  I cough, trying to get their attention.  “First off, thiss isss not just somewhere, it is where you are right now.  It isss your life.  Now, you can argue and over-think it, or you can try and flee it, but you cannot esssscape it.  Best to ssstart to live it.”

“Easy for you to say, no offense, but you are a snake.”

“And a dream figure at that.”

“Point taken.  A sssnake that hass been around for a long time.   A ssurvivor, you might ssay.”

The clever one’s eyes narrow.  “Do I know you?”

“Maybe,”  I respond coyly.

“A survivor, you say?”

“That’sss right.”

“Were you there when I had that accident at nine?”

“Maybe.”

“And when I fell off that horse at fourteen and was bedridden for a week?”

“Perhapssss.”

“And that time I was abducted and raped.  Were you curled up with me in the corner?”

“Even sssooo!”

“I know you! You are my inner strength!  I wondered where you’ve been hiding.”

“Oh, never hiding, my dear girl, I can asssure you.  Sssleeping ssssometimes, but never far away.”

“Will we get through this?”  Practical One wants to know.

“Of courssse we will,”  I state with confidence.  “We’ve got through everything elsssse.”

 

 

 

 

 

Day 132 “Creativity of the Tao”

“The world works in mysterious ways,”  my father used to say to me.  “It’s wonders never cease.”

I forget sometimes that life is a mystery.  I forget that there is an underlying force that weaves its way through our lives and creates a tapestry of meaning.  A Universe of order and compassion, Dora Kunz* calls it.

Thor has just had his fourth surgery since January.  His ability to heal is severely compromised.  I worry for him.  He feels as if he is just watching one marble after another drop in his life, falling to its fate:  out of control.

I, in the meantime, am losing my marbles.  I try to carry on as if everything is normal, and push through the anxiety, but every part of me resists.  My body rebels against my rational thoughts and proclaims its dominance.  In moments, I feel calm, reassured, but then I leave the house and my chest contracts, squeezing the breath out of me, and my heart races, fatiguing me greatly.  I want to lie down and wake up to a new reality.

There is no other reality.

This is our life.

If I can find faith, I will remember that this is just one more creative process in the greater scheme of things.  One of life’s mysteries.

*Co-founder of therapeutic touch.

Day 131 “Desires”

Thor has just undergone a third surgery to his knee to remove infection.  After yet another week of IV antibiotics, the doctor is threatening a fourth surgery next week if the healing does not progress.  Compromised by his cancer and the radiation treatments, it feels as if he is scaling a steep, and dangerous, cliff wall.

What we desire right now is relief:  a sign that things are turning around and that a return to health is imminent.

There are no worldly things that can calm the anxiety of uncertainty.  Even our summer travel plans, which had previously given us something to look forward to, are now cancelled.  Life is on hold.

The kindness of friends brings reassurance and warmth, but the reality still looms, stifling.

Rationally, I know that grief has many stages and that bargaining is just one of them, however, that is exactly what I want to do:  negotiate.  I want to make a deal with God that I will give up all my material wealth if only He will promise me that my husband will be well.

It is a desperate and hollow plea.

Instead, I must find inside myself the courage and strength to carry on.   Surrendering to  fear is not an option – my husband deserves more than that.   Fiercely, I must attack this enemy with all the love and compassion that I possess.

It is all that matters right now.

 

Day 130 “Inner Silence”

The thoughts inside my head are debilitating right now, paralyzing me.  There is no silence, only a constant swirling of I should, what if, how, why, and don’t forget to……. 

There is no progress amidst all this noise.  Life is too in my face at the moment, and I feel like I can’t breathe.

I used to know how to do this:  feet on the floor, breathe deeply.

A vision of my husband, recovering from yet another surgery floats into my mind, and with it emotional panic.  I can’t help him like this, I remind myself.

And breathe again.

The clutter of the house closes in around me.  I have let things go.

The more the mind races, the less you get done…..I know, I know…..

Breathe.  Find your quiet place.  Let the extraneous go, for this moment, in this moment.  Breathe.

My chest expands, pushing through the tightness that has resided there these past months.  I follow the breath deeper, into my belly, reconnect with my core strength.  Surrender to stillness….

The sound of my breath, my heart beating, and the safety of a vast inner nothingness…..

Suspended consciousness….

ecstatic….

I float…..

ahhhhh……..

peace.