My primary responsibility right now is to myself, to recover. That means physically (strengthening ambulation, improved balance, manual dexterity, etc), as well as psychologically, mainly via the written word.
In reality, though, the responsibilities go further. Much further.
When someone practicing a different spiritual or philosophical tradition wishes you well from within their tradition, what’s the correct response?
Acceptance.
It’s something I ended up reflecting on and even changing my approach slightly after hearing well-wishes from several different directions.
Needless to say, emergencies and emergency surgery, where terms like “paralysis” and “spinal cord injury” are being tossed about, are serious situations. I, in no way, want to minimize that. This is serious shit.
However, looking back at the events of the past two weeks, I note another theme as well, and it’s a theme I believe is partly responsible for my progress.
Humor.
I don’t let that get in the way of doing it poorly, anyway, for the past 17+ years. My take is that the only truly “bad” meditation is the one that didn’t happen. Even then, that’s being unnecessarily judgmental, but there we are.
One of the techniques I use when meditating is to recite a specific “gatha” or short verse to myself. This comes from Thich Nhat Hanh’s book Present Moment Wonderful Moment: 52 Inspirational Cards and a Companion Book.
I am not known for being a particularly passionate guy. Emotions exist, of course, but they’re typically kept well inside.
Imagine my surprise when, in the days after my fall and surgery, I was frequently, unexpectedly, weeping. My mind would touch on a topic and all of a sudden … tears.
I have two theories: reality and “the excuse”.
The same day I was released from the hospital, Joan Westenberg posted an interesting essay, “The Harvest Will Come,” on downtime and the cyclical nature of creativity.
We accept that the world needs rest periods built into its operating system.
But when it comes to our own sense of meaning and purpose, our work, our lives, we expect constant summer.
The catch, particularly for our own sense of purpose, is that “downtime” is often frowned upon and even considered a form of failure, if not by others, then by ourselves.
Westenberg’s perspective is that of choice and/or the inevitability of going through less-than-creative periods, and of learning to accept them as not only inevitable but also healthy and restorative.
We’ve been in our home for almost 29 years as I write this, and we’ve long known we want to stay here as long as possible. Of course, it’s a two-story home, which our knees and hips have often reminded us of.
A couple of years ago, we had the chair lift pictured above installed. It’s for the dogs, honest. Well, at least initially.
To be clear, I’m writing this for myself, first and foremost. It’s how I process things, and I have a lot to process.
I’ve been overwhelmed at the number of people who’ve reached out with support (truly … more on that later). I know there are questions, and rather than repeat myself ad nauseam, I figured I’d make this little writing exercise/record public. Ignore it, or read it, or something in between. That you’ve cared enough to read even this far has already made my day. I’ll update it from time to time.
Two versions: TL;DR: WTAF! summary of the events of the last week, followed by OMG! TMI! gory details/trigger warning, etc. No blood, but there is poop.
I like to listen to music. Reasonably good sound systems have always been a part of my DNA. One of my very first “big” purchases as a teenager was a moderately high-end receiver, turntable, cassette deck, and high-end speakers. I still have those 50+ year old speakers today (current version).
For decades my source(s) for listening to music were limited to the radio, and the music I purchased — first on vinyl, then CDs, and then digital downloads. Naturally, all of that has changed dramatically in recent years.
It’s that time again: donning the hat and driving the route for BikeMS!
Hard to believe it’s been that long.
I mentioned to someone recently that I publish four separate newsletters. Two publish weekly, one twice a week, and one daily. They asked how I did that.
Well. It’s not something I set out to do. It’s more of a journey.
On the 7 Takeaways home page I say:
Great content creators share one characteristic: they consume a lot of information. They read, they watch, they listen to a wide variety of topics that interest them. I started 7Takeaways because I want to be more like the people I admire, and I admire several great creators.
Here’s the thing: it’s more than great content creators. You’ll find that the most interesting and successful people you meet are those that consume good content across a wide range of topics and interests.
So, what’s “good content”?
So I typoed and asked ChatGPT for an image to illustrate “Uncanny Valet”. Was not disappointed.
I sometimes meditate outside, and I typically have my voice recorder running so I can record and not worry about forgetting random yet important thoughts. On this day there was a squirrel in a nearby tree who had a lot to say. This is the transcript, courtesy Google Recorder:
(Updated from a couple of years ago. I was about to write something about “is this what finally kills me” — an anxiety that increases in intensity as we age — and noted that it was already a small part of this larger topic.)
It almost feels trendy to talk about anxiety these days.
In part, I suppose, it’s become more prevalent because of the pandemic, and politics, and social media, and, and, and …
But has it, though? Has become more prevalent, or just more visible?
Based on my experience, I would say: why not both?
When I refer to magic here, I mean it literally. Like, in the Hogwarts sense.
I believe that creativity is a force of enchantment—not entirely human in its origins.
I heard a respected neurologist say in an interview, “The creative process may seem magical, but it is not magic.” With all due respect, I disagree. I believe the creative process is both magical and magic.
– Gilbert, Elizabeth. Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear
Liz Gilbert believes in magic. Literally.
I support her in her beliefs — not because I think they’re true, I do not — but because beliefs exist for important reasons, even if we don’t all agree on what is and is not true.
