Marcia’s Musings: Measuring Life in Shovelfuls
/My brain thudded against the inside of my skull and then bounced to the other. Sitting like a dead duck on I-35 after screeching to a halt to avoid a collision in front of me, the tailgating service vehicle slammed into my car, the young driver’s eyes wild and filled with a hint of terror as were mine. My brain slowly stopped ricocheting in its chamber of bone. The instant headache and spots in my eyes told me this might be a long haul, an awareness that has proved to be prescient. A year later, night-time driving still eludes me as my improperly focused eyes struggle, and brain pain surprises me on any given day. It’s been tough – and yet often I dip into joy.
Though my wings remain clipped to do, go, and see as I’d like, so many positive things flow my way to lift my spirit and encourage me to pursue healing with full abandon. Even as insurance companies challenge the extent of my brain injury and chip away at my confidence, the fullness of life remains before me. My job is to maintain steadfast in the mantra: I know what I know, I feel what I feel. To do so I place trust in what the Buddha taught: All beings suffer, and underneath suffering lies joy. If nothing else, the aftermath of this accident proves this to be true for me. Here’s what I’ve discovered.
THE JOY OF KINDNESS
The magnificent author Henry James once wrote this, “Three things in human life are important: The first is to be kind; the second is to be kind, and the third is to be kind.” Kindness in the form of kind acts, kind words, and kind thoughts sustain me. Here are a few examples.
My kind friends, realizing that the accident affected my ability to drive at night – and that I don’t like to at any time due to PTSD from it – regularly arrive to chauffeur me. Even on vacation, I luxuriate in the back seat as they absorb the bulk of the driving duties. Sometimes, they schedule a car service for me to make sure that I get out enough.
My kind lead physician practices not only his craft of western medicine, but also the one of patience. He listens, he watches; he checks in, and, so important to me, he offers an integrated plan of healing that includes a prescription for massage. He provides me with a deeper understanding of how the brain functions and why my brain and eyes struggle to properly communicate with each other. In doing so, he’s deepened my understanding of how so many others grapple with concussion and other brain injuries. He supports the role of meditation and reflection in my schedule, while encouraging me to live life as fully as I am able. I think of him my Kindness King.
My kind colleagues sometimes gently remind me to slow down and offer support when I do. One, in particular, shows sensitivity to my situation because she fell on ice nearly 18 months ago and badly banged her head. To this day, symptoms of her resulting concussion make appearances. Her willingness to share her experience helps me to remember I’m not alone. I’ve come to think of us as the Concussion Sisters - and I’m grateful for her kindness and that of my other co-workers.
My family members form my ever-present cheerleading squad. They ask how I’m feeling and listen as I work through this. They acknowledge my inner strength when it shows itself and avoid pitying me when it ebbs because they understand it’s part of the process. For someone with the given moniker of “Energizer Bunny”, the importance of this cannot be overstated as I adjust to a “new normal”.
THE JOY OF STILLNESS
The lingering effects of this concussion force the Energizer Bunny to slow down and remind me of my True Self which aways craved quiet and stillness. I occasional nap, listen to books rather than reading them to save my eyes from strain, and more deeply embrace internal practices that support my healing.
In this yearlong pause, I’ve come to realize how deeply happy I feel when hearing birdsong. An early walk in the woods when they sing loudest or hearing their chatter as they eat from my growing number of feeders remind me of the healing powers of the natural world and why we need to protect it. My playlists grow crowded with recordings of birds, bubbling brooks and crashing waves, and rain and thunder. I suggest you try them, too.
Never has the directive of “your tush on the cush” been more important. To meditate in stillness, to a guided meditation like Yoga Nidra, or in a yoga class – whether in person or from our On-Demand Library – serves as a natural Rx. In the former extreme busyness of life, my meditation practice too often took the back seat. Don’t wait for an emergency or an illness to remind you.
THE JOY OF EMPATHETIC JOY
Feeling happiness or bliss for others even when they achieve or obtain something we do not have is considered in Buddhism and yoga philosophy to be one of the Four Immeasurables, those qualities of practice that sustain and enhance life. I recommend to anyone wanting to learn more about the tool called empathetic joy to join our annual study of the Yoga Sutras. Of late I personally have been touched by things that support feelings of well-being even when I sometimes am not feeling well.
Two of my dearest friends, late in life, have found Great Love. As I spend time with them or listen to stories of their relationships, I literally smile outside and inside. Sometimes I pinch myself to make sure I’m not dreaming. To see and feel their happiness fosters a sense of gratitude.
At an age when I’ve cut back on gardening, I thrill to watch my son and daughter revel in this pastime. Son Tony once said, when in early adulthood, “Mom, I’m never going to have a yard this big, and I’m never going to have flower and vegetable gardens – too much work!” Now, he and his sister, Gina, plan and plant both with a sense of purpose and creativity that greatly surpass my own “in the day”. Their fences, trellis, irrigation systems, and resulting produce amaze me. When they harvest the fruits of their labor, freeze them, joy washes over me.
The teachers and healers at Green Lotus provide classes, services, and events with a level of commitment and professionalism I only dreamed of when opening in Lakeville years ago. Even now, I find myself wanting to sign up for nearly everything. Joy bubbles over me at a sound healing event, on retreat, on the massage or acupuncture tables, or in a class (taking it or teaching it).
Being fully human, and not a Pollyana-type person, some days deliver ease and on others suffering visits – physically, mentally, emotionally – as I slowly recover. I don’t want to kid you about that, which would only serve to separate us, perhaps to cause you to doubt yourself and your feelings. I’m learning, though, that joy can be discovered in most circumstances if I turn my wheel of perception even the tiniest bit. Despite it all – or perhaps because of it all – I’m having the opposite experience of Alfred Prufrock, the main character in T.S. Eliot’s poem, “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” when he lamented, “I have measured out my life with coffee spoons.”
I’ve been reminded to measure out my life in shovelfuls of experience and feelings – both the light and dark ones. What I found underneath it all, once again, is joy. Grab your shovel and join me.
Since her injury, Marcia has limited her teaching schedule. You still can join her for regular and Pop-Up classes and trainings, though. She’d love that - and thinks you might, too."
