Groundhog Day. Yes, it’s that day…the (mostly laughable) holiday the movie inspired. I’m guessing there will be six more weeks of winter? (We have a choice?!)
In some respects, like Phil Connors (Bill Murray), I’m experiencing a sense of déjà vu all over again. Last year on this day, I wrote about an unstable work situation, spending all my free time looking for another job, having trouble sleeping, living a life alone, suffering with a muscular/nerve issue in my leg, and having virtually no time to pursue my art. (Question: is this blog “art?”) Well OK, now there’s a bunch of stuff (!)…and interestingly (well, for me at least), all of it is still going on right up to this present moment. Consequently I’m realizing, more and more, the wisdom of the saying, “wherever you go, there you are.”
Because: I’m now living in another city, inhabiting a totally new and different physical environment, and experiencing a quite-different (small-town) culture. And, yet, realistically, my life has not actually changed all that much. Today: truly déjà vu.
Here I am. For all practical purposes, in the same situation I’ve been in for some time. Well, other than, for four entire weeks, I’ve been focused on almost nothing else other than improving my health – which had declined to a really unacceptable level and necessitated a break from the routine.
I have to admit, though, my life is better now after having this unprecedented month-long hiatus to focus on self and to engage in an extended period of reflection. And to try to relax. I have not been “relaxed” for a long time. (Years, maybe? Perhaps never?) Insomuch as the muscular state of my body has been perpetually “tight” for as long as I can remember (at least since the time of my early 20s), I can honestly ponder the question: do I have any idea what it is to be relaxed? It may be that I have that particular human condition (relaxation) in my mind as an intellectual construct, but I don’t really know what it means from personal, lived experience.
In any event, I’ve worked on (or at least toward) relaxation for an entire month now, with a 45-minute period of each day devoted to meditation. For at least that portion of every day (sometimes longer), I’ve attempted to clear out random, fleeting thoughts from my mind and, quite simply, focus on the breath. (With varying degrees of success from day-to-day, I might add.) However, it has become a very important part of my existence, and I know that I need to find a way to continue on with this practice, even as I resume a more structured daily routine next week that includes a return to work and all its accompanying stresses.
Needless to say, I’ve paid a great deal of attention to my physical being this last month, as I’ve tirelessly dedicated myself to addressing the chronic-pain issues that have plagued me. I’ve mentioned previously many of the approaches I’ve utilized. And, this week, just yesterday, I added one more technique; I had a craniosacral therapy session for the first time ever. This method is, at this point, still pretty mysterious to me, but it “involves assessing and addressing the movement of the cerebrospinal fluid, which can be restricted by trauma to the body, such as through falls, accidents, and general nervous tension.” My therapist was very gentle, had good, warm hands, and very caringly applied (barely detectable) pressure to various parts of my head, neck and ears. As I left, she advised that my body would slowly be responding to the work over the next few days – and that I should come back in a couple of weeks for more attention. Apparently, there are significant issues here for me, and utilizing this kind of therapy may be instrumental in helping to further improve my condition. Honestly: I’ll do anything that works. Western medicine has helped me very little, and only alternative health-care providers have helped illuminate the path to greater health.
But, as much time and energy as I’ve devoted to my physical self, my spirit is what has really needed nurturing. I’m not sure that I had really reached a spiritual crisis crossroads, and I don’t know that what I’ve experienced lately would be labeled as “spiritual emergence” – perhaps we should just say that this particular health-crisis interlude has led to a spiritual surge. Yes, that sounds about right.
Like everyone, I believe I’m seeking happiness in life. Rarely, though, have I found it. However, if I can keep reminding myself that health and happiness are not really destinations, but that they can only be found moment-by-moment, then, perhaps, I can live more fully.
Lasting progress doesn’t happen in a few dramatic moments, but hour by hour, day by day. And as time passes, every process includes repairs: The road to happiness is always under construction. Focus on taking life one step at a time until you get it right; set aside what you can do later. When discipline and patience join forces, they become a persistence that endures past the peaks and valleys to carry intentions to completion. Enthusiasm sets the pace, but persistence reaches the goal. Process, patience, and persistence are keys that unlock the doorway to any destination. (pp. 31-32) Dan Millman in The Laws of Spirit
Not too long ago, when I was describing my current life, work, and health situation to a friend, she surmised that my predicament was one that “most certainly called for a spiritual practice.”
I totally agree. And, I have focused renewed energy into that portion of my life lately, especially as I’ve had the time in recent days.
One thing helping me, likely more than anything else, is my meditation practice…which I have taken up again on a daily basis in the last couple of weeks. Now, given that I don’t belong to a meditation group here, and I tend to struggle with such a practice alone, I have fallen back on an old ally and friend in this endeavor, Jon Kabat-Zinn, who I first “met” with the publication of his (1990) book Full Catastrophe Living: Using the Wisdom of Your Body and Mind to Face Stress, Pain, and Illness. I owned the original set of tapes produced to accompany that publication, and just this year, re-purchased those same mindfulness meditation recordings on CD. My particular favorite is the first CD in the set, the guided body-scan meditation, which, when I actually stay awake and do what he (the voice of Kabat-Zinn) directs me to do, provides a healthy, self-focused 45-minute meditation experience, from which I (typically) emerge very renewed and relaxed. (Nope, I earn nothing from this endorsement!)
One of the most impactful parts of this experience is to be reminded, at the beginning of the session every day, that acceptance of self in the moment is most desirable…since, for better or worse, this is our experience right now. There is nothing we can do to control or change our experience, our feelings, or our being in the moment. So, why not focus on the moment and accept ourselves as we are?
I need to be reminded, and like to be reminded of this: every day, or even several times a day. Currently, I tend to try and work on this concept during many of my waking moments, saying, “ah, this is how I’m feeling right now. This is the pain I’m having right now. This is my joy right now. This is what I need to be doing for myself right now.”
Here we are: a mid-winter Saturday. And, baby, it’s cold outside. I went out to do a couple of errands earlier today, but I believe I’ll just stay huddled here inside until it’s a tad more hospitable in the great out-of-doors. Two days ago it snowed enough to close down all the area schools, and there’s still some of the white stuff left on the ground as we speak (write? read?). It’s below freezing right now and, cold-averse weenie that I am, I need to keep cozy underneath my electric comforter for a while longer.
So, I sit. Thinking. But mostly trying not to think. Being with myself. Accepting my life. Breathing in and out. With the in-breath, opening my heart. With the out-breath, clearing my mind. Focusing on the breath. Trying to just be: in the here and now.
I seek comfort in the wisdom that is available in the universe. So I sit. And also read. There is so much to learn about this existence.
…everything we see, hear, feel, and think is [in] constant flux and change. Nothing endures. We long for permanence and as a result we suffer, for we find none. Buddhism Plain and Simple(p. 46)
Here is the test to find whether your mission on earth is finished.
If you’re alive, it isn’t.
I’ve had this quotation on my refrigerator door for several years now — as if I actually need a daily reminder that there’s always something (big and bad) coming at me right around the corner (and ready to throw my entire known universe into utter chaos).
This time the issues are all about my health… which probably won’t surprise anyone who has kept up with (or browsed) these Musings very much at all. I’ve been writing about what I first labeled “peripheral neuropathy” since at least last March. Then, later in the year, after my move south, I found a doctor who seemed to have some kind of clue about what was going on with my body, and labeled it “chronic myofascial pain.” And, as you know, I have chronicled such avenues as low-dose naltrexone and acupuncture in my quest to address this predicament.
The latest development is that I seem to have entered some kind of acute phase (or an “eruption,” as my chiropractor likes to call it) with respect to the constellation of my pain issues…enough so that my physician has ordered me to stay away from work. This is a real first for me, so it’s taking a total mental adjustment to accept that I am in such a serious state. The theory is that I can take some time away and calm both myself and the symptoms. I’m scheduled to return to work in a month.
In the meantime, the latest label for my woes seems to be headed in the direction of fibromyalgia…a widespread syndrome that afflicts women much more than it does men. (As usual, in my life, I’m finding myself in the minority.)
I will be seeking much assistance in the coming days, weeks and months. I know I have lots of support out there, and that is very comforting.
Here is what I know I need to do right now:
Breathe.
Take it a day at a time. Breathe.
Go for a walk. Breathe.
Keep showing up. Breathe.
Keep writing. Breathe.
Take a hot bath. Breathe.
Go for a drive. Breathe.
Take a picture. Breathe.
Keep trusting that the universe will provide. Breathe.
The vibration that invaded Teller’s consciousness was mostly, at first, mosquito-like in its intensity: a teeny, tiny, annoying little buzz in his ear. It was difficult to make out what is was, precisely, at this extremely low volume, but it rather sounded, when he paid attention closely, like: di-di-di-dah-dah-dah-di-di-dit.
It was a pesky, irritating sound, this, and Teller wished that he could just find the right insect repellant to rid himself of the miniscule pest (if that’s what is was), or be able to q-tip his ear in the appropriate manner to eliminate whatever physical “thing” it was that may be scratching his ear drum.
Over and over again: di-di-di-dah-dah-dah-di-di-dit. Just barely loud enough to overcome the awareness barrier. Insistent enough, though, for him to start thinking he might be going slightly mad. And, slowly, ever so slowly, day-by-day, it seemed to be getting louder.
Piled on top of his many, already-existing personal and professional woes, Teller believed this to be yet another, obnoxious, frustrating new dimension to his life; but something he could (and would) clearly resolve. I can’t put up with this distraction for long, he thought, I’ve got other stuff to attend to.
Still: di-di-di-dah-dah-dah-di-di-dit. It just kept happening, with him every minute of every day. What the heck is going on?
Now that he thought about it some, Teller recognized that he first became aware of the phenomenon back in October. That was weeks and weeks ago, and this background noise to his life was definitely getting disturbing. Or, more aptly put, over this period of time, Teller was becoming increasingly alarmed by the presence of this irritating, incessant, crazy-making addition to his existence. If this was going to be the new soundtrack to Teller’s life, he certainly wished that he had had more say in the selection. After all, why not some classic rock? How about a great radio station? KINK FM in Portland would do just fine, after all, thank you very much.
But it just kept coming: di-di-di-dah-dah-dah-di-di-dit. Was this tinnitus? A website he found stated that tinnitus is “the perception of sound in the ears or head where no external source is present.” Well, that sure sounded about right. Apparently tinnitus sufferers “report hearing all kinds of sounds: crickets, whooshing, pulsing, ocean waves, buzzing, even music.” Ah, ocean waves, thought Teller…so why do I get di-di-di-dah-dah-dah-di-di-dit?
And, then, almost magically, it dawned on him. Oh, my: how friggin’ obvious! How is it I didn’t catch on sooner? Di-di-di-dah-dah-dah-di-di-dit = S. O. S.! Teller was hearing (of all things!) Morse codein his head!
Teller knew (from his Boy Scout, Ham-radio days) that SOS is the internationally utilized distress signal, sent out over radio waves by vessels in trouble. The code, and the letters “SOS” associated with it, have long been equated with such common phrases as Save Our Ship, Survivors On Ship, Save Our Sailors, Stop Other Signals, and Send Out Sailors.
None of these sayings really fit for Teller, however. Why would he be hearing “Save Our Ship?” Ah, but then he remembered…SOS could also mean “Save Our Souls.”
And, then, with that one thought, everything just seemed to fall into place. The noise stopped; it just plain ceased to exist. The message had been received. Teller understood. Finally.
His physical body had been sending his soul a message. “Save yourself,” he was being advised. “You are not well. You are not in a healthy place.”
The Morse code he’d been hearing was entirely consistent with recent dreams he’d had, of course. In the guinea pig dream, the episode had concluded with him calling out HELP! to an unknown presence upstairs. One interpretation of the dream held that he was appealing to his “higher self” – shouting for attention regarding the desperate condition he was in, crying out for assistance in order to escape his ridiculous predicament.
Then, there was a more recent dream, also involving stairs. His recollection of the plot line was fairly garbled, but Teller remembered that, again, he was wondering what was at the top of a staircase, even as he knew that he had to traverse all three flights to the top. During his slow, plodding steps upward, wondering what entity was to be found there, he was very carefully carrying a precious liquid made up of a viscous purple extract from African Violet plants. Curious, yes: but he knew that this was a valuable, life-affirming substance, and would be used for good…if only he could successfully deliver the goods.
Teller had come to understand from both dreams that he was trying to get in touch with his higher self…in order to use the knowledge, wisdom and experience readily available to him to resolve his current life situation.
And, now: SOS. His very soul was obviously at stake. His own body was sending him a message: loud, clear and unmistakable.
So Teller made a promise to the universe, “yes, indeed, I will save myself. I am paying attention.”
