My life has simplified enormously. As nearly all of the “normal” ways that
people occupy their time become impossible for me to do, I have been left to
explore a simpler range of options. I’m
not sure what I expected life to be like when I stopped working but the reality
feels surprising. It is not uncommon for
damage to the central nervous system to produce severe muscle spasms and the
options are exercise, drugs, or even surgery to sever the nerves. But living that reality, figuring out what it
means to navigate life’s simplest tasks like walking to the bathroom or making
a cup of tea get a lot more complicated and require a surprising degree of
creativity. I can’t pretend it’s all
bliss and ease, but it’s a lot more of that than I would have expected. I actually feel a little guilty that I have
this amazing freedom to do anything I want – no one is expecting me to do anything.
I am completely free to do whatever the
moment suggests. I don’t have to
struggle with what I should do; I just do what calls to be done. Some
of what calls are great books, movies, conversations with friends, sitting in
Silence. I also find myself becoming
ever more curious to play with ways to ease my struggling body – what happens
when I lean into the spasms, feel the movement and where it wants to go. The idea of “exercising” in the sense of
finding a “plan” of appropriate exercises and following it feels disconnected
and abusive. Instead a sense of dance
arises and it makes more sense to respond with love and attention to each
physical disturbance, feeling into what it is asking for, responding with
respect and curiosity. That could be
anything from screaming in pain to struggling to figure out how to move my body
from the bed to the bathroom when the muscles are so painfully locked that it
is impossible to stand up. It could also
be playfully exploring the strength and persistence, the intense sensation of
my body trying to unwind. It feels good
to explore the spaciousness surrounding the intensity, experimenting with
unconventional movements that stretch a muscle contraction so that it moves out
of constriction if only for a moment.
There isn't a need to “think” about what to do, all the actions arise
out of the intense movement flowing through my body in unpredictable and ever
changing patterns.
This immersion in pure presence, just being where I am is
peaceful, easy and more loving than I could have imagined and I feel a flood of
gratitude that I have been given the opportunity to explore this mysterious
landscape. Everything that I formerly
worried about and spent my life working to take care of, like paying the bills,
taking care of the house, running errands , working, are now being magically
taken care of. There is enough money;
there are wonderful people who help me, most especially Don. I could spend time worrying that I am causing
trouble to them, but the reality is that there is such a sense of love and
sharing that I can’t keep up the story of helpless victim imposing on
others.
There is a lot of mystery in this because I
sense that I always had this choice. Has
there really ever been a moment when I was not just living in the present
moment and doing what the moment called for?
Why should working with excruciatingly painful muscle spasms be easier
than meeting the daily tasks that used to show up in my life? Why does it seem easier instead of
harder? This is a very interesting
question and I know that the relationship I have now with my life was always
available to me but I didn't understand how to accept it. I was busy being “responsible”, which is just
a word that disguises a whole catalog of ways that I needed to prove that I
was worthy, that I was right, that I could do all the things I was supposed to
do so that I didn't need to depend on anyone else or impinge on them. It was always a question of defending my
right to be a separate person taking up space, making impacts that I struggled
to keep beneficial or at least benign.
Now when I can no longer do much for anyone, not even
myself, and I regularly rely on others to help me, the joke is that all that
trouble was deluded. I am not separate. I could no more choose not to impact those
around me than I could choose not to breathe.
I have always relied on the benevolent actions of all the people in my
life, but because I was so focused on my own capability, I had not the humility
to recognize the extent of the gratitude that I owed to the wondrous
munificence all around me. I don’t need
to prove myself anymore; I can cede the effort to the love that is the
fundamental energy moving life. It is in
love that I meet the pain; it is in love that my needs are met and it is in
love that I’m finally able to feel gratitude that I am truly free to feel at
ease.
