Until I Mend
Sometimes life deals one blow after another, and it’s a healthy skill to develop attributes that ward off despair or feeling life a victim. But sometimes even our best coping tools aren’t enough to bring on a happy face.
My last post described my recent challenges with everyday life annoyances, and how I had to stop seeing them as life, instead of obstacles to life.
Since that post, and before the string of problems could abate, I got ill with a very nasty non-Covid bug. I kept my chin up for several days, but eventually I succumbed to feeling like another obstacle was in the way of me living my life. Until I got really sick and didn’t have much perspective on anything.
My tools of resilience held their own at first, with an attitude of “we’ll wait this out” and “you needed some rest anyway.” But further into the coughing and sleepless nights I felt my strength succumb to survival mode, with a mindset of “just get through this hour.”
I was following good health advice and doing everything I could to get welI. I kept reaching for some wisdom to sooth my mind, but it escaped me. Nothing that is typically healing for the body-mind could give me solace.
The only thing that helped in a small way was texts and calls from loved ones and friends. There wasn’t any sensible, sagacious information that could ease the suffering. My friends were just there, letting me know they cared, and that they were praying for me. In the background of my pain was a hint of faith and love. It helped.
It reminded me that even my best abilities at getting through troublesome times are not what gets me through. I can put in my best effort with the best of intentions, but I don’t have control over how or how fast issues are resolved. When I’ve done my best work (from the perspective that I have now) I have to surrender to Life.
I come to a place of not-knowing. When it feels like every direction I turn my mind or body seems not-right, the only stance I can inhabit is right in this very moment. In good times I have increased the amount of time I spend in the present, and I practice often to cultivate that awareness. But I still have work to do with the skill of being present when things are hard.
I can shut out pain by watching TV or eating or otherwise distracting myself, basically waiting for the pain or bad luck to run its course so I can pick up my present awareness when things are better. Ha! This plan sure backfires when tricky situations and sickness last over a month. That’s a lot of TV and food.
Sitting in the not-so-fun now, this is what it felt like:
I feel ringing in my ears side effect from the disgusting cough suppressant I had to take. I feel the brain fog and the sore muscles from the lingering virus. I feel frustration about being cooped up for so long, and add it to the fears about missing work for weeks just when we had some expensive house and medical things to pay for. My head aches from thinking my project will never happen at this rate.
The body sensations mix with the grumpy stories into a sticky stew, but if I sit with them and breathe, they change. Even with the unpleasantness, there is a little peace in being where I am. Running and avoiding gets tiring, on top of the tiring feelings. As I pay attention, the stew thins out. The stories fade, the pain subsides a little because tension is released.
Until I’m back on my feet, I’ll be pretty miserable if I don’t practice some present awareness. If I start paying attention to my autopilot mind which wants to default to feeling trapped and victimized, I’m prolonging the agony. I can take the edge off by surrendering to the bewilderment of I Don’t Know, and let let myself explore whatever my body-mind is up to in this very minute.
It isn’t what I ordered, but the last time I looked, life didn’t hand me a menu. Instead of waiting for things to get better so I can feel better, I’ll exercise a little agency and see what I can do with this very interesting moment. If nothing else I’ll expand my skill at being present. It’s a pretty limited skill if it only works when things are peachy.
I might as well be grateful that the things we learn in dark times are usually the most important.
