Waiting

I had been telling myself that this time between getting home from the hospital on November 12 and my surgery on January 14 can be like a retreat—a time to move slowly, to savor my life, to walk every day on the river path near my house, and more. And it has been all that, especially the first couple of weeks at home after nine days in Intensive Care.

In the last few days, I realized that while the daily walks along the river are still amazing, I have been sinking into routines. This morning the combination of several powerful dreams plus my daughter’s Christmas gifts to me provoked one of those BFO’s (Blinding Flash of the Obvious): I have gotten into a mindset of waiting—waiting for the surgery to be over so that I can get on with my life.

I know that this mindset applies to many others too: waiting for the election to be over, waiting for covid to be over, waiting until the vaccine comes. Putting aside this past year, we actually get caught in these mindsets more often than we might realize, e.g., waiting until the kids are grown up, waiting until we retire, waiting until spring comes. These can easily become times of ‘treading water,’ and neither moving forward with our lives nor being fully alive.

Waiting
Christine Feldman, one of my meditation teachers, talked about choosing a New Year’s Intention to explore each year. One year, she realized that she spends a lot of her time waiting, because she teaches courses all over the world. She also realized that waiting is a mindset: it is generally not a time of being in the present moment, but rather either daydreaming, biding one’s time, or expecting and anticipating. She resolved to explore this “waiting” mindset and see what she discovered.

Exploring
Other teachers have talked about waiting. Two points have stuck with me.

First, when we are waiting for something, we are not here. We are generally expecting, anticipating, sometimes hoping, sometimes dreading. During these states, “we are being eaten by time.”

The other big point is to realize the relationship between waiting and me/mine. While waiting, if we observe the content of our thoughts, we realize that most will be about me/mine. And it’s usually wanting—wanting this period to be over, wanting something to happen, or wanting something not to happen. But our focus is generally self-absorbed with my needs, my wants.

When we realize we are in a waiting mindset, we have the opportunity to observe. We can begin with noticing what the body feels like (both sensations and energy), what the heart feels like (perhaps heavy, resentful, or anxious). With some calming, we can observe the qualities of the mind during these periods. Building on the notion that mindfulness can enable us to see things more clearly, we see that this mind state of waiting is not really serving us or the people that live with us and not leading to peace in our hearts.

Emily’s gift of watercolors
One of my daughter’s Christmas gifts to me was materials for exploring watercoloring: some paints, brushes, and paper. She had also found a book that encourages the reader to explore and to have fun.

My first thought was my utter failure in a watercolor class many years ago. My second thought was to wait until after the surgery.

However, her other gift was to learn how to play Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah (one of my favorite songs) on the piano. This is now beginning to sound like one of those commercials on TV: but wait, there’s more! Tying the song to watercolors, she had done her own exploring with watercolors—she had painted a beautiful orange-yellow wash on paper and then written, calligraphy style, the words to the song. A subtle hint that I might play with the watercolors myself!

So after the dreams last night, I will take out the watercolors today and begin some playful exploration!

Now

I am reminded of the last line of Mary Oliver’s poem Summer Day: “Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”

A great question for all of us to explore.

Tell me, what is it you plan to do with this precious moment, this precious day?

Choice, Intentions, and Interconnectedness

Choice
I have written before that one of the benefits of mindfulness practice is that it enables us to be more aware of the space between stimulus and response. During this period, between my aortic dissection on November 3 and the surgery to repair the aorta on January 14, I am required to go very slowly and to do very little. Suddenly, I am aware not only of more space between stimulus and response but also seeing more choices and their consequences much more clearly than before. Consequently, those choices are less often guided by "I should" and "doing what is right" but rather by seeing and feeling the wisdom of the choices that I am making.

Slowing down
I read a powerful passage from the book Epiphanies by a person who was also forced to go slowly for months: "When I actually slowed down, and sat, and stared at the wall, my resources to deal with the challenges in my life were even bigger and more beautiful than I had ever dared to imagine. They were just waiting for me to be still and recognize them." So true!

Cultivating intentions
I am also realizing that being more aware of choices also requires intention. This includes the intention (reminder) each day to notice and take in what is beautiful in the world. It is important to note that I also I want to see the "whole sky" not just the beautiful. This metaphor is explored in two books that I love: A Bigger Sky and Half the Sky: Turning Oppression into Opportunity for Women Worldwide. So I also read the news each day and donate money to various organizations. Before my dissection I devoted many hours each week to various causes.

Developing wisdom and compassion
This notion of intention and beauty connects to another aspect of mindfulness. Various meditation teachers have said that this path is about wisdom and compassion, that they are like the two wings of a bird which is incomplete without both. I have written elsewhere that I believe this second wing involves a whole family of practices which are important to cultivate: compassion, kindness, love, gratitude, generosity, wonder, and forgiveness.

When I bring these intentions to awareness each day, I live in a space where gratitude is a frequent visitor, where I notice and feel deeply more acts of kindness, and I take in the beauty of the world. I am lucky to live less than 200 yards from the path along the Ashuelot River that I walk on each day--walking slowly is like seeing new paintings by gifted artists each day.

Toxic energies
Angeles Arrien wrote about four universal addictions, one of which is the addiction to being focused on what's not working rather than what is working. I have been aware my whole life of hundreds of moments of anger, irritation, resentment, etc. each day about what is not working--in my life, in my job, in my family, and so on. I have worked hard to recognize and address these toxic energies.

I recall S N Goenka talking about this dynamic in the story of being insulted by someone and stewing about it--thinking "he abused me so"--for hours, days or longer. Goenka ended the story saying that this person said something mean once and then we repeat it hundreds of times!

I remember Pema Chodron saying that when we can deeply feel the consequences of these afflictive emotions (not just in our heads, but in our hearts and in our bodies), we can we drop that energy just like we would drop a hot pan that we accidentally picked up on the stove.

I remember Andy Olendski saying that it takes so much energy to keep fueling these emotions (e.g., "he abused me so"). I can also hear Ajahn Sucitto's dharma talk about how we play that tape over and over ("he abused me so") and how that energy becomes part of who we are, part of our karma.

I have told these stories to friends and students many times. And now, with going slowly and doing very little, and cultivating gratitude and wonder each day, I can more often and deeply feel the burning of such energies in my heart, body, and mind. Suddenly I just drop that that hot pan, and that toxic energy just dissolves. Sometimes that energy returns within minutes and I have to recognize and acknowledge its return. But its return doesn't mean I have failed, it simply means that it needs more attention.

Interconnectedness
The last part I want to write about today is the interconnectedness of all life, a theme I have addressed often. Many healers have said that one essential component of "health" is having a deep sense of connection (as opposed to separateness, a dis-ease which many people in industrialized societies suffer from). This connectedness can manifest in many ways, for example, connection to one's spirit/soul, connection to other people, connection to nature, and more.

An important part of my healing is the reality of interconnectedness in the natural world. One author said that "the trees, plants, fungi and microbes in forests are so thoroughly connected some scientists describe them as superorganisms" which connects to the Gaia hypothesis that James Lovelock and Lynn Margulis coined in the 1970s.

Thich Nhat Hanh coined the term "interbeing" to remind us that the illusion is that we are separate, and the reality is that we are deeply interconnected. This helps me to remember and feel such gratitude for all the support that I am receiving from so many people during this challenging and yet also wonderful (full of wonder) chapter in my life. I literally feel held and cradled by all that love.