“the wars of heart, mind and gut”

Though he looked like a story teller but he was a veteran with amazing stories of battle fields.

He was suffering from non-healing wounds. He had lost parts of his body during war as we took care of his wounds. Those were old wounds as in his words, old wounds with new pains.

One day I asked him about his lessons from battle fields and how he felt being a warrior. I saw a sharp glow of valor in his eyes as he said, no one likes war; we all have conflicts of ideas, needs, rationale that’s the nature of ourselves Then he continued, the best part of the war is its end, the best stories are the survival stories and the best attribute is to keep humanity in acts of war.

To some, lessons of wars of heart, mind and gut are a source of daily strength as wisdom at run.

Others keep their swords out to fight with their back at a wall defending unknown.

" love of distant lands"

He was brought in via a med flight after found stranded in a remote area for days. He was hypothermic, septic and struggling to hold on to life. His condition stabilized over next few days as he started to respond to treatment and gradually became more responsive. I still remember the first word out of his mouth. It was the name of a place which I found out later, as he told me was his home town where he never returned after he left almost half a century ago.

Life during its journey make all of us time travelers though some of us travel  to distant places of our dreams to make a life away from where we belonged.

To some life goes on regardless of living here or there, where one is now that is the place to call "here".
They are the ones who remember the saying " for every time zone that we are in, other than here, we drain our life energy".*

Others keep love of a distant land hidden deep down while living in two worlds.They are the ones who never totally accept either of those worlds until one day they find themselves connected to their roots.

I felt a yearning of love for a distant land when he uttered his first word.

* a Caroline Myss quote.

" a deer caught in headlights"

The day she was admitted she became known for expression of a deer caught in headlights.

She was suffering from a neuromuscular disorder where her body was no longer being controlled by her brain. The heartbreak  was her complete awareness of that and her understanding that she can’t do anything about it.

I saw fear in her eyes, a fear of coming days as her disease was progressing. I always related fear with unknown until I saw her with fear of known. She was afraid, she was aware, and she looked like a deer caught in headlights.

To some their eyes are windows to their souls, you can see in their eyes your own destiny.

Others have eyes which remind us of shut down windows,limitations of their bodies with fear blind them of living in present moment.

I knew it then as I know it now that was an observation : no words only expressions and remembrance.

"to become a flower"

He loved flowers that was so obvious with his hospital room which was a picture of a mini garden of roses, tulips and other varieties. He was a gardener by profession that was the cause of his problem too. He was admitted with a skin infection.

One day I asked him about his thoughts about flowers. He said that some days he just want to become a flower as flowers are givers of hope, encouragement, color and life. He told me that when you give hope, appreciate and encourage some one you become a flower. He smiled and continued, try it some day you will feel like a flower: light, colorful, divine.

Time has gone by until recently I thought about those words; when you give hope and encouragement to someone that is the becoming of a flower from bud to full blossom.

To some a flower is a sign of ultimate feelings of remembrance:love, sorrow,joy.

Others remind us the becoming of a flower when they say “and the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom” *

*a quote Anais Nin

" lets postpone death"

He was suffering with a diagnosis of failing lungs and his lungs were unable to do the basic function of oxygenation. The disease was progressive and the prognosis was poor.

The dilemma was that he wanted to live and death was not yet imminent. There was struggle, argument, desire, wish but no hope. That was a phase of shadows as I saw his death peaking through the corridors of passing by tomorrows.

One day he asked me, lets postpone death. I looked at him with humility. I said nothing. That was a perfect nothing I knew then but I still remember that moment of nonverbal communication, and how badly I wished I could..

Some follow their course of disease and life as “all diseases run into one, old age.”*
Others who are diagnosed with cancers,they get calendars of death in terms of 3 month survival to years of survival. Then there are those who surprise us, they live beyond their calendars.

I wonder with feelings of random joy in some predictions to level of sheer sadness in other cases. Probably the word sad summarizes it all: struggles,arguments,desires.


*a Ralph Waldo Emerson's quote

"fog on a shower mirror"

He was a teacher, and I guess teacher never retire. So was him,always trying to teach something as we took care of him. I kind of like him as a patient. He was a philosopher with a sound mind, which was amazing at his age of eighty eight.

One day I told him that his medical history was long but I hoped that his resume might be longer than that. He smiled and replied in a funny way that he did not want to leave a medical legacy like a disease after his name but he wanted to leave behind a legacy of mind..

As days goes by in hospital, one day he talked to us about shadows.He asked us to think that why we have shadows when we walk toward light and why there is a fog on a shower mirror after we end up a bath.

You don't find shadows in the dark or a fog on a shower mirror when you go in for a shower.He continued to enlighten us by saying that life's challenges reveal as shadows or fog. The work is to become pure and part of the light. Darkness hide shadows only to reveal to those who walk towards light as a warrior of light to conquer their own shadows

What was that all about? I still wonder sometimes.

Sometime it is not what we assume and sometime what we assume is not what it is.

"nothing but my presence in a present moment count"

She was suffering from a metastatic cancer with a painful tangle around her spine sending waves of pain in her existence.It was a sad day like other days as we took care of her She was managed with pain killers to relieve some of what was killing her.Besides her cancer; pain,fear and anxiety were her existential enemies.She was  miserable in front of our eyes,making us feel her pain when we were not ready to feel anything. Every day I saw a dying women who knew that she was dying but she was not ready to die.She had not accepted that.There was no acceptance,.the good,bad and ugly sides of death.

As I took care of her  I developed a connection of trust.I felt her pain and she became aware of that. One day I saw a smile on her face for a brief moment.I thanked her pain to giving her back a brief breathing moment.I was happy. As I explored my treatment plan,she told me that nothing but my presence in a present moment counted.." If you are here you would like to be more than a head count,you should  like to be present in that moment"..

To some our presence in a moment is all that needed to relieve some of their pains though temporarily.
Others within our ranks won't even try to be beyond a head count.They are the one who are absent in a present moment.They are one who miss out the most powerful remedy in their sleeve called presence which is sometimes mightier than a pill.

"can luck be a matter of choice"

He had a life full of adventures and a history of falling and getting up to face what comes next.

I saw him during his treatment and told him that he was a lucky man to be alive compared to man in his age and with his life style. Besides a history of a few broken bones nothing else was broken.He disagreed, he considered himself not so lucky.

I wondered about luck as I always considered luck an absolute happening against odds of possibilities. He had money and choices, how come he did not feel lucky as luck can be on demand for him.But it is what you want so badly knowing that it may not happen but can happen not knowing how. And When it happen that is luck.

To some onetime winning of a lottery is a matter of an absolute luck, others survive life’s punches on a daily basis and feel not so lucky.

Can  luck be a matter of choice, an inflated word underappreciated daily.

"a good heart can be a bad heart"

At one time he was young and full of dreams. Then he got older as we all do. Aging is a measure of time when we look at ourselves. Sometimes our reflection in mirror tells us the truth, other times an in depth vision of CAT scan make us see through in and out. The premise of nothing to hide,the true nature of our being revealed as such without make up.

He was suffering from a failing heart,what we called cardiomyopathy.

He had a good heart, always giving, always forgiving. His family and friends had same opinion. I saw his ailing heart was struggling to keep pumping life force in his body, I wondered about the fate of a good heart.

Some hearts belong to the heart of universe; always there, always full, always amazing.
Others live a life with empty hearts; a life of struggle, sorrow, loneliness.

The choice of a heart is always there,"to live in hearts we leave behind is not to die"*.

______________________________
*a quote from Thomas Campbell

"when love is just not enough"

She loved him so much that she changed her daily routines to take care of him. He suffered from a stroke, paralysed waist down with no hope of recovery.

This was not a fairy tale as I saw her exhausted face weeks after she became a care giver. They had arguments,tears,regrets but a smile or a laugh was not mentioned even as a word on their next follow up visit.It appeared to me that they were together merely of ones need and others guilt. It felt like that love was just not enough to keep them going.

I knew the fatigue of compassion in care givers but I had not seen bleeding love out of what had been built as a love for life contract. So that was it,when love is just not enough.I wondered.

To some love is life,it adds value to live in what life offers.

Others fantasize love as being separate from the challenges which come with being alive.May be those are the one to whom love is just not enough when challenges arrive.

I think love adds colors of a rainbow to life. Though during build up of dark clouds we sometime lose sight of a rainbow which always come with rain,thunder and sun shine ;so is the love, always enough, always there, always to look for.