What is this one heart we all share? It is our true nature, the essence of our being, which is love and light. Meditation is one effective way of coming to know this inner light of our divinity that is infused with love and pervades everything. Once we come to know our true nature, we develop, through practice, the ability to rest in it more stably. Then we can live more continuously from this heart of wisdom, love and compassion and truly come to know it as the One Heart we all share.
I have previously mentioned the saying, “For those who understand no explanation is necessary. For those who do not understand no explanation is possible.”
Some research indicates the saying came from Thomas Aquinas. Saint Thomas Aquinas believed that the existence of God could be proven in five ways, mainly by:
1) observing movement in the world as proof of God, the “Immovable Mover”;
2) observing cause and effect and identifying God as the cause of everything;
3) concluding that the impermanent nature of beings proves the existence of God.
The original quote was not about ‘understanding’ but about religious belief, specifically “faith.” The original quote is, “To one who has faith, no explanation is necessary. To one without faith, no explanation is possible.”
It is amazing to me how perspective differs, but what is does not. For example, this cartoon that Linda B/G shared recently.
At the retreat, the teachers spoke about the nature of karma.
I remember the nature of karma;
I am born of karma, I am heir to karma, I abide in karma, and I am supported by karma.
When I act with intention, I am the owner of my actions and inherit their results.
My future is born from such actions, and their results will be my home.
All actions with intention, be they skillful or harmful, of such acts will I be the heir.
While karma is not a term used in Christianity, it is certainly there in Galatians, Chapter 6, Verse 7: “Do not be deceived, God is not mocked; for whatever a man sows, that he will also reap.”
One of the mystical experiences common to retreat for me, regardless of the theme, is that I will have a foreshadowing of a teaching point to come. I will write in my journal an insight, then hear the teacher/s speak that to the group.
Sharing (with permission) the words of one student:
In all the years I had been practicing, it was suddenly like, “Oh, oh….” because I was in that place.
I realized grief isn’t just an intense feeling, it is actually a REALM. I was in this place, and it wasn’t here and it wasn’t the other side. I was somewhere in between and this portal kept opening up, and when it did my heart would just explode out.
I knew, too, that the process of grief for me was a rite of passage, it was something that was changing me.
In our culture, we are encouraged to sort of get over grief and get back to our lives. That this is a measure of our mental health – how fast you can get back as if nothing has happened. I knew intuitively that this was just nonsense. That I did not want to be the same person I was before my father died. I wanted to be different in the world going forward after that.
This student and you and I, like Mary Reed, are likely becoming unwitting mystics…
In a recent interview Mary Reed was asked to name three things she wished everyone could experience before we die. The interviewer did a short animation video of her response, which added a fun, unexpected dimension to Mary’s answer. See: Three Things to Be Experienced Before We Die
The first day of the retreat was the 49th day since Jerry Basham passed. In Buddhism, we chant that person’s name along with gate, gate, paragate, parasamgate, Bodhi Svaha! Gone, Gone, to the other shore, the shore of liberation.
When I came out of silence and caught up on messages and social media, my sister-in-law had posted this:
Your Loved One in Heaven
by Sean Dietrich
Hi. This is your late loved one speaking. I don’t have long, so listen up because I have a lot I want to tell you.
First off, I get it.
Ever since I left this world you have missed me, and I know you’re bracing for the holidays without me. No matter what anyone says, this year’s festivities are going to be really tough.
In fact, let’s be honest, this festive season will probably suck pondwater. But then, Thanksgiving and Christmas are tough holidays for a lot of people. You’re not alone.
See, the misconception about the holidays is that they are one big party. That’s what every song on the radio claims. Each television commercial you see shows happy families clad in gaudy Old Navy sweaters, carving up poultry, smiling their perfect Hollywood teeth at the camera. But that’s not exactly reality.
In reality, fifty-eight percent of Americans admit to feeling severely depressed and anxious during November and December. In reality many folks will cry throughout the “most wonderful time of the year.”
Well, guess what? Nobody is crying up here in heaven. This place is unreal. There is, literally, too much beauty to take in. Way too much.
For starters—get this—time doesn’t even exist anymore. Which I’m still getting used to.
Right now, for all I know, the calendar year down on Earth could be 1728, 4045, 1991, or 12 BC. It really wouldn’t matter up here. This is a realm where there is no ticking clock, no schedule. Up here there is only this present moment. This. Here. Now. That’s all there has ever been. And there is real comfort in this.
I know this all seems hard to grasp, but if you were here you’d get it.
Also, for the first time I’m pain free. I feel like a teenager again in my body. You probably don’t realize how long I’ve lived with pain because I never talked about it, I kept my problems to myself because I was your loved one, and you needed me to be brave.
But pain is a devious thing. It creeps up on even the strongest person, little by little, bit by bit. Until pretty soon, pain becomes a central feature of life.
Sometimes my pain would get so bad it was all I thought about. No, I’m not saying that my life was miserable—far from it. I loved being on earth. It’s just that simply waking up each morning was getting exhausting.
But, you know what? Not anymore. In this new place, I am wholly and thoroughly happy.
But enough about me. I don’t have room to describe all the terrific things I’m experiencing, and you don’t need to hear them. Right now, you’re grieving, and what you need is a hug.
Which is why I’m writing to you. This is my hug to you. Because you’ve lost sight of me. And in fact, you’ve lost sight of several important things lately.
Death has a way of blinding us. It reorganizes the way you think, it changes you. You will never be the same after you lose someone. It messes with your inner physiology. It reorganizes you’re neurons.
But then, there’s one teensy little thing you’re forgetting:
I’m still around.
Yes, you read that correctly, I’m right here with you. No, you can’t see me. No, you can’t reach out and hold me. But did you know that one of the things I’m allowed to do as a heavenly being is hang out with you?
It’s true. I’m never far away. I’m in the room with you now, along with a big cloud of ancestors, saints, and witnesses. I’m shooting the breeze alongside you, watching you live your life, watching you raise your kids, watching your private moments of sorrow.
Here, in this new realm, I am in the perfect position to help you learn things. Which is what I vow to spend the rest of your earthly life doing, teaching you little lessons, lending you a hand when you least expect it, and desperately trying to make you smile. Actually, I’ve already been doing this stuff, you just don’t realize it.
What, you don’t believe me?
Well, wake up, pal. You know that tingle you get in your spine whenever you think of me? That’s me.
You know how, just yesterday, you had a beautiful memory when you were driving and it made you cry so hard that it actually felt good and you began to laugh through tears? Also me.
You know how sometimes when you’re all alone, preoccupied with something else, suddenly you get this faint feeling that someone is standing in the room with you? Hello? Me.
You’re not alone on this earth. You never were. You never will be. So during this holiday season, when cheerful families are getting together and making merry, and taking shots of eggnog, I’m going to be clinging to your shoulder, helping you muddle through somehow.
I’ll be making your spinal column tingle a lot, and I’ll be sending plenty of signs. Each of these signs—every single one—is code for “I love you.” So start paying attention to these hints.
It is 6:21 am and I am sitting with an ice pack on my left hip writing this post.
My relationship with this left hip has been long standing, pun intended.
My left hip was dislocated at the pelvis August 12, 1962, in an auto accident.
An auto accident which resulted in my having an out-of-body experience.
There, I have said it.
I distinctly recall floating above my physical body watching the scrambled flesh on my forehead being sutured.
I was watching from a “space” of no pain, no fear, no sense of myself as a separate being.
The summer of 2021 has been a time of revisiting this experience. I have connected with dozens of others who had similar altered states of being. Many shared much more extreme experiences, including those who were clinically dead for some time, but everyone identified ways that experience shaped the rest of their lives.
Possibly EVERYONE knows someone who has had some type of experience.
Profound gratitude for each person who has spoken out loud. (The International Association for Near-Death Studies is a non-profit organization based in Durham, North Carolina in the United States, associated with the academic field of near-death studies.)
It is likely not an accident that I was immersed with this community, nor a co-incidence my hip would flare up as I process that experience I had when I was twelve years old.
I will give a talk at St. Johns UCC in New Buffalo, Michigan titled, “Time Change.” Notes from that draft:
Now is not a moment moving through time. Now has no duration. There is no time through which we move.
Time is imagined to be real only when we have forgotten our true nature of ever-present awareness.
We imagined ourselves instead to be limited, located entities. Time and space are born with that thought, but there is no present moment.
This ever-present now is eternity.
Time is thought superimposed upon eternity, and eternity is just another name for our true nature of awareness.
Louise Hay, in You Can Heal Your Life, shares a probable mental cause related to hip problems: Carries the body in perfect balance. Major thrust in moving forward. Fear of going forward in major decisions. Nothing to move forward to.
Oh, my….
While the night is still dark, before I have welcomed relief from discomfort, even as you seem to be there and I seem to be here and we seem to not yet know what we moving forward to, truth embraces and erases each of these distortions.
In 1988 I was told I needed to have a hip replacement. I was only 38 years old, considered to be too young. They only got about ten years from an artificial hip at that time. The same hip could only be replaced twice due to the formation of scar tissue. The doctor said, “Replacing this hip now would leave you with no options. You just have to face it, you will never have quality of life.”
[Lisle (Isabella Rossellini) hands Madeleine (Meryl Streep) the vial of potion.]
Madeleine: “Bottoms up.”
[She drinks the potion.]
Lisle Von Rhuman: “Now a warning.”
Madeleine: “NOW a warning?”
This information may feel a lot like that. It has been an intense yet slow-moving past few months, with many of us feeling very out of sorts, even to the point of having difficult and painful experiences. But there’s a reason, according to the stars. The five outer planets (Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune, and Pluto) have ALL been retrograde. When a planet goes retrograde, everything related to that planet goes wonky.
If everything related to all of these wasn’t enough, Mercury also went retrograde September 27 until October 18, with a “shadow period” that lasts a few weeks before and after the actual retrograde.
Now a warning…. This will be a very intense time, as we are reflecting upon all the partnerships, relationships, and friendships in our lives to understand where we fit in. Is there balance and peace between us? Do we feel at home with these people?
I have certainly been experiencing this, as have the people in my life.
In the Tuesday, October 26, Dharma Path class we were guided to reflect on the following, with the guidance of realizing, “If we can’t hold ourselves in our hearts we can’t hold each other.”
Of what am I dismissive in myself?
What part/s of myself do I not hold in my heart?
What needs my loving attention?
I wrote in my journal:
wounded sexuality
left hip/knee/foot
inner worrywart
To begin this difficult process we were to reflect on a part of ourselves that we do embrace. That was easier. I love that I am a hearth-keeper, baking cookies, making meals, helping and supporting. I love being a nurturer.
We were gently reminded, “These parts are real. When we are dismissive we can’t bring them into our heart. We have all lost something dear to us. We all have a community within us. It is time to invite ourselves back into our hearts.”
We were instructed to look into the camera and really allow ourselves to see ourselves and to be seen through the eyes of unconditional love.
It was powerful.
At one point, the eyes literally became the eyes of my dad! I could see clearly how I had stepped in to the wounded sexuality when my dad’s indiscretion resulted in him passing syphilis to my mom while she was pregnant for me. Then my having been sexualized at a young age; my getting pregnant at 15, married at 16, at a time when females were not allowed to stay in school. Loss of libido and intimacy with the hysterectomy in 2012. Such loss…. Dismissive? Lord, yes.
But suddenly I could see this all having come from conditions – this line of wounded sexuality did not begin with me!
A flood of appreciation washed over my soul.
I wrote in my journal:
I have healed the line of wounded sexuality. I did not start it. I stepped into it.
As I was working on this post, a friend sent the perfect “Inspiration” from a Network For Grateful Living Gratefulness.org:
Place your hand on your heart. Feel what surfaces in the fullness of that space. Joy, sorrow, anger, contentment, sadness, delight, vulnerability. Perhaps an unnameable tone. Whatever you notice, allow it to simply be. Let it be okay. Let yourself soften.
When we hold ourselves and others tenderly, we nurture the relationships that make life possible. Tending is the embodiment of tenderness and so a direct path to shared belonging. We stretch toward and from the heart, extending to others and ourselves expressions of humility, compassion, and care. As Trui Snyman says in the short film Tenderness: “People are hard on each other, people are hard on themselves.…We could all do with more tenderness.”
In moments of difficulty, tenderness can serve as a starting place, offering fertile ground for the cultivation of gratefulness. Soften, and open up to the unending gifts of the great mystery in which you belong. Soften, and feel yourself fortified. Soften. Stretch toward and from your heart.
Like the weather, moods change.
Soften….
And now another warning: Venus goes retrograde on December 19 until January 29, 2021.
From my journal entry of an exercise during class on mediumship with Barbara Brodsky:
You need not teach anything, Dear One, just live as your own consciousness evolves. You have been here before — but not exactly!
Think for a moment about the park you live in now. “Separate” homes are owned and lived in yet you share the streets. Beyond that, you share the sky, the sun, the wind. Even those express with uniqueness in each case. One may be shaded because you face the east or west. EVERYTHING fits into this dynamic.
You have been dreaming of human existence on Earth without fear of death. You have whiffs of the ripple effects. Yet, not you, nor I, nor THE ALL THAT IS knows exactly what will unfold. Like a storm. Much is known, but nothing is known exactly as it will be.
Even the cookies that you bake time-after-time using the same ingredients in the precise measurements is subject to distinction.
Child, what song lifts your heart?
He’s got the whole world in his hands.
((The song began to play in my mind, including an ad lib verse of he’s got Deep Springs Sangha in his hands.))
Notice how your thinking mind wants to argue a bit with the word “he.” Your heart does not demand a change in the word. Your heart agrees with the purity of the intention in that word. Notice how some demand a special application of the gender-sensitive pronouns, preferring “they” to “he or she.” Once the heart has opened to its true capacity, none of that will generate reactions.
You will be present in the presence.
You will have peace that passes understanding.
Dear One, another song?
((Peace is flowing like a river, flowing out from you and me. Flowing out into the desert setting all the captives free.))
I had shared a quotation from a film about not asking a person who had lost a loved one how he or she is but to ask instead, “What was your loved one like?” I included a link to the film with a disclaimer, “It was a bit too preachy for my taste.” My daughter commented that probably means she would like it! When my sister commented (asking me to define preachy), I took down the post.
I looked up the definition of preachy: having or revealing a tendency to give moral advice in a tedious or self-righteous way.
Then I looked up proselytizing: the action of attempting to convert someone from one religion, belief, or opinion to another.
Somewhere in my bodies I can feel the space of Loving What Is (Byron Katie) and Whatever Arises, Love That (Matt Kahn).
Notice when you hurt that you are mentally out of your business.
If you’re not sure, stop and ask, “Mentally, whose business am I in?”
There are only three kinds of business in the universe: mine, yours, and God’s.
Whose business is it if an earthquake happens? God’s business.
Whose business is it if your neighbor down the street has an ugly lawn? Your neighbor’s business.
Whose business is it if you are angry at your neighbor down the street because he has an ugly lawn? Your business.
Life is simple — it is internal.
Count, in five minute intervals, how many times you are in someone else’s business mentally. Notice when you give uninvited advice or offer your opinion about something (aloud or silently).
Ask yourself: “Am I in their business? Did they ask me for my advice?”
And more importantly, “Can I take the advice I am offering and apply it to my life?”
One must have chaos in oneself in order to give birth to a dancing star.
~ Friedrich Nietzsche
Recently I had a very tender sharing with a dear friend. It was tender because each of us is doing the best we can to love one another and that process isn’t always neat and tidy.
Let the record show, the person I was sharing with would be considered one of the highest conscious beings you could meet. I hold that view of this friend as well.
I also see places where I project onto her. In fact, I even said that to her: “I miss having opportunity to project onto you because I know when I do that I am afforded the honor of seeing my own self.”
What we see is not a PERSONAL self.
What we see is the universal SELF.
Jerry Ashmore, dharma teacher at Empty Circle Zen Group in Hobart, Indiana, said, “Even before we practice it, enlightenment is there.”
Jung wrote, “To confront a person with his shadow is to show him his own light. Once one has experienced a few times what it is like to stand judgingly between the opposites, one begins to understand what is meant by the self. Anyone who perceives his shadow and his light simultaneously sees himself from two sides and thus gets in the middle” (Jung, 1959, p. 872).
One website suggested a simple process for working with shadow.
1. Make a list of 5 positive qualities that you see yourself as having (e.g., compassionate, generous, witty, etc.).
2. Look at each positive quality that you wrote down – describe its opposite (e.g., unfeeling, stingy, dull, etc.).
3. Picture a person who embodies these negative qualities vividly in your mind. Roughly, this is your shadow.
Mooji (Jamacian spiritual teacher from the UK) says, “Our ego is a Siamese twin, and we cannot put it somewhere else. It is important to recognize you are not it… To stop being what you are not there is something you must understand. Whatever you can see or experience, you are not this. You cannot judge your real weight by carrying a donkey on your back. When you cannot bear your self anymore, you are a good candidate for freedom.”
The Basham family continues to experience the ripple effect of loss.
Wednesday, September 29, 2021, at the exact time family was graveside with John’s brother, Jerry, in Michigan, we received news that our former sister-in-law had just passed in Texas. Her passing was not a surprise, and was in many ways a relief to her son, Jeff.
One week to the day, October 6, 2021, news that Jeff’s sister passed in her sleep was a surprise, and anything but a relief.
As long as we can be made to believe that one thing is good and another evil, we shall remain outside the Garden of Eden, and one day have health and another day disease, experience youth and vitality one day and age and debility another day because those are the pairs of opposites and they follow one another in cycles. It is only when we do not desire wealth or harmony any more than lack or discord, but seek only that which was original and primary in the Garden of Eden, that we rise above these opposites into eternal life.
Joel Goldsmith, The Thunder of Silence
As these additional conditions weave themselves through our psyche like summer weaves its way into fall, I am led to an interview by Brian D. Smith (Grief 2 Growth). Brian is sharing have said to his wife that he had not had signs for the 5th anniversary of their daughter’s passing, his wife pointed excitedly at a sign on a vehicle by them: I AM RIGHT HERE!
Brian share that with Becky (Rebecca Austill-Clausen) during an interview about her 3 Secrets to Communicating with Your Deceased Loved Ones, in which she makes these points:
Believe that the afterlife is real.
Trust in your inner self.
Recognize that love surpasses all boundaries (even physical death).
Perhaps it is merely shadow (ego beliefs) that can separate us from fluent awareness of loved ones who have passed….
We are feeling sad with the passing of John’s eldest brother, Jerry, shortly before midnight on Friday evening, September, 24, 2021.
The date was already special – grandson Brad and Christina got married exactly five years ago!
This photo of the five Basham brothers was taken at the wedding. Jerry is on the far right. Next to him is Jim. Jim passed from cancer in 2017. Far left is Greg, the youngest. Jack, and John next to Christina. I married into this bunch 55 years ago and I have grown up with the Basham brothers.
After John’s dad passed, Labor Day became a Basham event. It was a way to keep everyone together and for many years the “Labor Day Reunion” was held at the home of Jerry and his wife, Jeanne. Complete with copious amounts of beer, a talent show (I use the term talent loosely) on Sunday night, where the audience could number 50 to 100. Memories of Labor Days gone by are now pressed into our minds like a first kiss.
And this year, Jeanne found Jerry lying on the floor when she got home from the store on Labor Day.
Jerry had an abdominal aortic aneurysm.
Thankful Jerry survived over six hours of surgery.
Thankful he survived a second surgery the following day.
Thankful he was able to be taken off the ventilator, was alert, and asking for family a few mornings later.
Jerry had been experiencing low back pain, and it was getting worse. This summer, he said the pain would be so bad, he “would have to sit down or fall down.” It seems incomprehensible now that no one thought of the possibility of an aneurysm.
Thankful Jerry was making baby steps toward recovery when John and I mustered our post-Covid bodies and traveled to Tennessee for Courtney’s wedding.
Thankful many words of love and encouragement came by text and video wishing Jerry a happy 79th birthday on Tuesday, September 21, 2021.
Tuesday night, Jerry was back in ICU after his condition took a turn for the worse.
Thankful Jeanne and their kids and grandkids were all together with Jerry in the ICU on Wednesday. (This had not been allowed because of Covid risk.)
Thankful Jerry was lucid and expressed his wishes, choosing to receive comfort care only.
Thankful the hospital staff was able to keep Jerry comfortable.
Thankful Jerry was able to receive hospice care in the hospital.
Thankful to know Jerry’s last hours were very peaceful.
Thankful Jerry was a care giver. As his daughter, Lisa, said to me yesterday, “There was nothing you could ask of Jerry that he would say no if it was within his human ability to do it.”
The Daily Word for September 24, 2021 is so Jerry.
Over the years I have given generously of my treasure and shared my time and talents. Giving has blessed me beyond measure and remains an important part of my spiritual life.
But sometimes I resist gifts, deflecting another person’s generosity or rushing to reciprocate. Today I practice receiving with willingness and ease. I realize all gifts derive from God, yet come to me through many channels.
I remember how I feel when my gifts are received gratefully and with happiness, and how it fills my heart to know someone feels cared for and valued. I give that gift to another by letting myself receive with grace and gratitude, completing the circle of sharing and love.
Thankful Jerry has taken such loving care of all of us through this.
As Jerry prepared for the six-hour emergency surgery, he assured his wife and daughter he was not afraid, “If I don’t make it, I will wake up and see Scott. If I make it, I will wake up and see you. Either way, I will be happy.”
Wow….
Fourteen years ago, Jerry and Jeanne lost their son, Scott, at 42 years of age. One of the toughest things a parent can go through, losing a child.
Regular readers of this blog are familiar with the Sacred Stories, and you totally get the “continuity of consciousness.”
I have mentioned Pamela and Alan Johnson, and Supernatural Love and Life After Death (FaceBook).
Yesterday, John went into the laundry room to get some batteries for his earphones. I heard some grumbling sounds and asked what was going on.
“Oh, this shelf fell down,” he said.
I went in to see if I could help. He had gotten the shelf put back up.
As I looked, however, a dowel pin that was holding up the second from the top shelf was laying on the shelf above the one that had fallen. Now, get this picture. These pins go in so tightly, you need a pair of pliers to pull them out. What are the odds that two pins, on two different shelves, would suddenly fall out?
Right….
When we had the second (and more extensive) mold remediation work done here in the tiny house, the cabinets in the laundry room were torn out with the wall. Only the uppers had survived. I had made a detailed drawing and asked Jerry to build a new cabinet. But Covid hit and we all went into lock down.
I knew this was Jerry’s way of communicating to us. It was perfect. What better to get our attention than what he likely considered to be an unfinished project!
A much younger Jim (left) and Jerry (center) and John (right) with a head full of black hair!
Thankful John has had years of practice hearing from family and friends who have passed: Joseph Willmeng; my dad; Jim Sink, to mention just a few.
Thankful we know we are not just these bodies.
Thankful we know love is eternal.
Thankful we are here to remind one another, especially at those times when we feel sad.
John and I rallied from Covid sufficiently to make the trip to Tennessee for our granddaughter’s wedding. There are sooooooo many significant points about this wedding.
Courtney’s brother, Brad, was on emergency stand-by to officiate if John and/or I were not recovered sufficiently to make the trip. He had just officiated at the wedding of a good friend. But Brad told me how relieved he was to not have to do it! And he said this was his favorite line in the ceremony:
We have gathered here, not to create a union, for that union already exists. The soul’s commitment to marry another happens long before the legal wedding day and in truth we have been invited here to witness the love already affirmed between Courtney and Josh…
That love had already created our great-grandson, 8 month old Jackson, who was brought to the altar by Gampie (John) in a little red wagon with a sign on the back announcing proudly, “Here comes the love of your life!”
These two are absolutely adorable!
Here we are recessing with Jackson.
A friend (who has been very concerned about John and me) wondered aloud if it would be more considerate to postpone the wedding, given the current surge in cases. In truth, Courtney did postpone her wedding because I have been absolutely terrified of Covid.
Courtney and Josh were willing to wait 18 months to get married so that I would officiate their ceremony.
This is the oddest part….
I am not sure I could have officiated if John and I had not just recovered from Covid.
You see, all along it has been my heart’s desire to neither get nor give the coronavirus.
Because those risks were removed for me, I was able to be fully present with Courtney and Josh on their wedding day.
It was a beautiful venue, and she wanted the ceremony to be outdoors, but the skies opened up and it rained all afternoon!
As an interfaith minister, I learned that rain on your wedding day is said to be blessings “raining” down from great spirit.
I also found this online: Rain on your wedding day is considered good luck because it signifies that your marriage will last. As you know, a knot that becomes wet is extremely hard to untie – therefore, when you “tie the knot” on a rainy day, your marriage is supposedly just as hard to unravel!
It is my pleasure to present to you for the first time, my granddaughter, and her husband: Courtney and Josh Yarber!
Three weeks ago today John and I were babysitting with Jackson, our 8-month-old great-grandson, while his mom worked (from G-Ma’s house).
That evening we got to see the barn on the property at Bradyville. Soooooo happy for Brad and Christina!
Three weeks feels like a lifetime.
John received the Monoclonal Antibody Therapy (mAb) infusion on Friday, September 3. That went well.
Two days after the infusion, I discovered John had spent the night in anxiety. He was still in a state of sheer panic that morning. We did everything we could think of to shift his state: EFT, tapping; Self-Havening; icy-gel mask, sucking on a lozenge; acupressure. Nothing really alleviated the shortness of breath, panic-feeling.
John was exhausted. He could not sleep, unable even to lie down.
By early evening, I reached out to my Dharma Sister, Doctor friend and she and her husband (also a physician) concurred that his symptoms were impossible to evaluate without labs, a chest x-ray, and an EKG. It was a holiday weekend. No office hours until Tuesday. Their suggestion was to get him to ER immediately.
I said, “OK. I will take him.”
“No!!! YOU cannot take him. It is not safe for you or for the others for you to be in a waiting room,” she text-shouted at me.
I called Linda and said, “I need you or Larry to take John to ER.”
Within minutes, Larry had John in the vehicle headed to the hospital.
Words do not describe the waiting. And the worry…. Thankfully, Larry kept Linda updated, and Linda kept me updated.
My sister, Janis, and my brother-in-love, Larry, drove over and sat in their car in my driveway while I sat on the front porch, both of us masked, just so I did not have to wait alone. When the mosquitos began to bite, they headed home. By that time, information began to be posted on John’s electronic chart.
Linda and I were seeing the test results, real time, and what we were seeing was very encouraging.
The infusion (mAb) can cause heart palpitations. We will never know for sure if that is what triggered the anxiety, but John really suffered with it.
The following afternoon, we got an even bigger shock. John’s sister-in-love, Jeanne, had found his brother, Jerry, on the floor in severe pain when she returned from the store. Jerry was being taken to the hospital!!!!
News was slow to come in.
We learned that Jerry had suffered an abdominal aortic aneurysm.
Jerry was going in for a 6-hour surgery!!!
We later found out that most people would not have lived to get into surgery, much less survived the procedure. The next 72 hours would tell the story.
We were grateful Jerry had been able to speak with Jeanne, their daughter, Lisa, and Lisa’s husband, Terry. He assured them he was not afraid. Jerry told them if he did not make it he would wake up and see their son Scott, (who passed 14 years ago). If he made it, he would wake up and see them. “Either way, I will be happy,” what a gift his words were to them.
The Covid-related anxiety already wrenching within his body coupled with the immense shock and grief and uncertainty about his brother, was a perfect storm….John was inconsolable during this time.
The next day when we had a telehealth follow-up from the ER visit, the doctor suggested a short-term use of Valium to help John get some rest and begin to recover. That was such a blessing….
As my stress level went up through this, I also had set-back after set-back. My temperature would spike. My breathing was short. I was weak. Neither of us were resting, and both of us were worried about ourselves, about Jerry, and also wondering, “Will we be able to get to Tennessee for Courtney’s wedding?” I am scheduled to officiate that wedding on Saturday!
But gifts come with every adversity.
On Sunday morning, while John was debilitated with the anxiety, he would cry and tell me over-and-over how sorry he was that he had never understood what I had to live with. He said he understood now why I was so stringent on mask-wearing and social-distancing. He can now clearly see why I did not want to get or give Covid.
As Larry sat at ER with John, I worried about both of them. And Linda…. and anyone else should Larry get exposure from John or from someone else at the ER.
Worry has been a life-long companion.
I had a long conversation with a friend this morning. She has hated watching me go through this. She admitted to me that she has been mad at my daughter and granddaughter, holding them responsible for my getting Covid and suffering. I reminded her that resentment is like eating rat poison expecting the rat to die.
Maybe it would be smart for every home to have a home antigen test on hand. Maybe it would be kind to recognize that each person I am with unmasked is being exposed to every person I have been with unmasked, and every person each of those persons have been with unmasked.
We are going to Tennessee for our granddaughter’s wedding. Do I wish they would require masks? Yes. Am I concerned about those attending who are not vaccinated? Yes.
“I wish it need not have happened in my time,” said Frodo.
“So do I,” said Gandalf, “and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.”
~ J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring
On Sunday, I shared with a small congregation. John and myself, plus 11 others. We were not masked. Sitting in a circle for an hour.
Was that smart? Was it kind?
I wonder about that.
You see, I was born into anxiety. I experienced womb trauma when my mom simultaneously discovered she was pregnant with me and had syphilis. My mom’s emotions of shame, anger, humiliation and concern about the treatment affecting me were my emotional blueprint for life. Diagnosed with and hospitalization for polio when I was five-years-old, I was placed in isolation, unable to even have my mom touch me. She came and stood on the other side of the glass. Tears streaming down my face, spindly little legs, scrawny little arms. I had never been away from my mom even one day of my life prior to that. It was very traumatic….
I know how trauma leads to amygdala hijacking. Fortunately, I have found ways to mitigate a compromised central nervous system. That, essentially, has become my life’s work.
All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.
Stacey recovered sufficiently to drive 2 and 1/2 hours from Smyrna to Cleveland, Tennessee, to be a support for our granddaughter, Courtney, after she and our great-grandson, Jackson, also tested positive for Covid.
Four-generations navigating Covid…. not a claim-to-fame I would have chosen.
At this time the symptoms are less difficult than the energy-leeching vigilance if something is taking a turn for the worse. At day 8-9…. not yet able to go without Tylenol. Overall, I feel less “well” the past two days than I had the previous. That wakens the Nervous Nelly within. Counter-productive to recovery. Perhaps, though, I do feel a smidgen less “unwell” today than yesterday.
John and I were able to do a very tentative yoga session here in the great room yesterday.
And later in the afternoon we walked out back to discover dozens of Monarchs flitting in the field. It is nothing short of a miracle that many of them will make it to Mexico.
Jesus came to teach many things, but forgiveness is chief among them.
And yet with compassion there is nothing left to forgive.
Forgiveness is only needed when there is something held against another, some kind of blame.
When you see deeply into another, that judgment falls away and there is nothing left to forgive.
~ Aaron
John and I are back from taking our PCR (polymerase chain reaction) test checking for Covid. The results should be back in about 20 hours, but the roller-coaster of symptoms leave very little doubt.
On Wednesday, as we were traveling back from a fantastic visit with Stacey and her family in Tennessee, she sent word that she had a headache and was suspicious. We had plans for dinner with friends, Linda and Larry, so she would test before that. She had a positive home antigen test.
John and I went into self-quarantine, and in about 24 hours, I began to have symptoms. John was about a day behind me.
Deepest gratitude for EVERYTHING Linda and Larry have been doing to support our recovery, often anticipating our needs before or while we were not even able to articulate them.
I bow down to each and EVERYONE who prayed, sent distant healing, held energy for our recovery. And kudos to my Dharma Sister, Doctor friend, and her endless text support. I told her I need to put her on retainer….
After 12 hours of violent vomiting, during which I was unable to tolerate even water — and an UNRELENTING excruciating headache — a welcome whiff of relief came. I have never tasted anything more wonderful than the first sips of 7-Up that stayed down. I am still running a low-grade temperature, with mostly respiratory stuff now, like a bad summer cold. John reports feeling weak, tired, and we both have a very diminished appetite. And a diminished sense of smell.
But today I put on my apron and made breakfast sausage for John. And I did a load of laundry.
Such a tender heart for our daughter Stacey.
She has had such a difficult time with our hyper vigilance, and then for our exposure and contracting Covid to be a result of our visit with her. The compassion has spawned MANY tears as she and I FaceTime during our mutual quarantine, checking up on one another.
This morning I wrote in my journal: “This isn’t so bad if not for the need to be constantly vigilant that things may have taken a turn for the worse. I finally feel the need to write about all of this.”
I assured Stacey I take full responsibility for having put myself at risk. Her, “I am so sorry…” led us both to the profound compassion Jesus taught that there is nothing left to forgive.
This is the odd part.
When we went to grandson, Brad’s, band concert, John and I stayed double masked. His band rocked the house, and we wore our Apache Jericho shirts proudly!
Later that evening, it was such joy to watch our granddaughter, Courtney, and her Bride’s Tribe head out for an evening of country line dancing.
It never entered my mind to consider lateral risk.
I am sooooooooo grateful to Stacey for being vigilant and protecting Linda and Larry (and any others) from exposure through John and me.
We were treated with such kindness today by the young woman who took our nasal swab. We went in together, sat in the same wide chair, and she called it a strange kind of date. She was so gentle with me, much more than I had been with myself when I administered the home antigen test.
Compassion wells up in my heart and makes my eyes leak.
Words cannot begin to express how thankful I am that Stacey had chosen to get the Johnson & Johnson vaccine for me while she was here in Michigan the first week of August. In fact, she received that shot 3 weeks to-the-day of her testing positive!
As we are all still recovering, we are recognizing so many gifts in this, and that is likely to continue for some time.
In addition to donating my “Covid-Created” long hair to Wigs For Kids at some point, Stacey mentioned donating convalescent plasma.
Sounds like a very good way of making lemonade out of lemons….
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