How do you “do” sick? Perhaps you make a special homemade soup, blend cayenne pepper, lemon, and honey (maybe even some brandy), take a warm bath, use the vaporizer with a hint of peppermint oil, drink herbal teas or take Western medicine, say prayers, light candles. Any and all of these things can be remedies and they all promote self-care. However, they usually come with the conviction or hope that they will work—you will get better if you “do.” What about when they don’t? Most of us, most of the time, respond to any kind of illness or distress with something that goes like this, “I don’t feel good. Something is wrong. I shouldn’t feel this way. What caused this? How do I fix it?” And then if our interventions don’t work, “What the #@*%, what did I do wrong? What’s wrong with me?!“ When we are sick we fight, we struggle, we feel ambushed, we resist, we wage war . . . can you hear the sounds of battle? There is a shadow side in our general orientation to fix what ails us. We are fighting against reality—we don’t hold all the control levers, life is impermanent, and of course the biggest shadow is death. So how do you “do” sick? It’s not so self-evident.
Last week I began to come down with a cold. I was such a good patient. I took my Yin Chow, made vegetable tortilla soup, drank lots of tea, slept, and every couple hours I did a mindful self-compassion practice—20 minute "pauses" where I practiced being in a kind and connected presence with what is. It was fascinating observing the body respond to illness, really taking the time to notice and be with those physical sensations. It was wild. My sore throat moved through and around my throat, sometimes throbbing, sometimes a raw rough rubbing, sometimes gone. I felt my sinuses sting, congest, unplug, and then release. Tiny tingles pulsated over my skin as my body temperature fluctuated. And when I felt myself getting hijacked by my desire to make my experience different, mostly, I remembered, paused, breathed, and brought some compassion to the wild ride of being sick. Just to be clear, I’m not saying I fell in love with my suffering but rather I was able to offer some love to the sufferer (me). When I went to bed that night, I had a profound sense of goodwill despite not feeling well. I had been a good companion. I had tended to my experience and myself with the kindness of a good friend.
Daily Bites and Blessings
Welcome to "Daily Bites and Blessings." Pull up a chair. I’ve set a place for you at the table. These edibles are sometimes bitter, sometimes sweet and often they are both. This is a come as you are party. I invite you to bring your compassion, courage, and curiosity as we dine together on life's bounty. May our time together give us more light and more love.