In my previous post I celebrated a successful operation, reboot and mused about what kind of Lenten journey this reboot might provide. I was excited about the prospects of Lent based in joy and gratitude and had so many ideas about where this spiritual journey might take me.
None of those ideas included coming down with a post-operative infection! It started two weeks ago Friday when I noticed I felt a bit "off." Then the next day I felt very sleepy and even more "off" - something was not right. Then on Sunday I could see what was wrong as my belly became angry red and began to swell. Post-op infection.
I was fortunate to have great medical care - the kind you can easily access when you have the privilege (in our society) of medical insurance. But even with great care and some slow and steady improvement, small surgical interventions were necessary to get ahead of the infection. I felt so sick the first week that my memories are a blur. By week two I was feeling just a little bit better. Since the surgical interventions the pace of progress has accelerated. The wound-v.a.c. is helping the antibiotics to get ahead of the infection. I can feel the difference. Phew!
What impact did this have on my Lenten observance? I haven't opened my beloved devotionals in two weeks. Prayer time became very basic and a bit primal - no strength for the daily offices. A major problem has a way of stripping down a situation to its essentials - no room for anything extraneous. I have discovered that this is one of the gifts that problems bring us. They also help us to prioritize what really matters and get back to our bottom line.
But to clarify: I do not believe God brings problems into our lives in order to help us simplify and prioritize. I do, however, believe that God works with the "stuff" of life in whatever form it takes. And unlike the miller's daughter, God regularly spins straw into gold.
The infection left me with feelings of being helpless and out of control. No matter what I did (or agreed to do) it didn't seem to be making things that much better. I have grown accustomed to living in a world where often medical interventions make an immediate positive difference. Hearing that something is going to take time brings me no comfort at all - especially when I do not feel well. It was at this point that I accepted that Lent was also out of my control. It would take whatever form it took.
And so it did - very quietly. While having a procedure in the Interventional Radiology Department, I found myself trying not to focus on my pain. Very quietly my heart reminded me of the practice of Tonglen - that wonderful Tibetan meditation/prayer form that teaches you to take your personal pain and use it as a way to identify with all those in the world experiencing pain right now. You draw in their pain with your inbreath, and exhale peace and relief to all who are suffering. This was a practice I always wanted to explore in greater depth - and here was the perfect classroom. Tonglen in Interventional Radiology. Tonglen in the Procedure Room at my surgeon's office. Tonglen for Lent. Paul Knitter would smile and understand.
Recently while watching some political satire I remembered the United Worship Service we shared with our Buddhist neighbors on the eve of the Presidential Election in 2016. We talked much that night about equanimity - and I reflected on how this virtue has received scant attention in popular Christian literature. The Apostle Paul touches on it briefly and Jesus appears to have lived it. But it is not a Top Tier Virtue in the Progressive Christian Lexicon. And yet here I was living deeply into this notion of equanimity. Aside from taking my antibiotics and following my surgeon's advice, there was little else I could do to move this forward. It would take as long as it takes and much of that was outside of my control. Can I lean into equanimity with this infection? With the circumstances of life? With my ministry? Can I explore the virtue of equanimity and see how it fits for a follower of Jesus? Can I live that Buddhist story of the Zen Master, the Boy and the Horse with an open mind and heart and see where this all of this takes me?
We'll see... : )
Kim
The Zen Master, the Boy and the Horse (this version is taken from the website The Buddhaful Tao):
In this village, a little boy is given a gift of a horse. The villagers all say, “Isn’t that fabulous? Isn’t that wonderful? What a wonderful gift.”
The Zen master says, “We’ll see.”
A couple years later the boy falls off the horse and breaks his leg. The villagers all say, “Isn’t that terrible? The horse is cursed! That’s horrible!”
The Zen master says, “We’ll see.”
A few years later the country goes to war and the government conscripts all the males into the army, but the boy’s leg is so screwed up, he doesn’t have to go. The villagers all say, “Isn’t that fabulous? Isn’t that wonderful?”
The Zen master says, “We’ll see.”
