April 28: Recognition of my progress

Had the last of the current series of yoga sessions this past Thursday, which would be a disappointment except that Gael is starting another series right away.  I do much better with weekly discipline.  Weather colder, less walking.  Eating incredibly healthy, not dropping any weight, so very frustrating.  Through the worst of the increased work schedule combined with pre-existing committments, so can relax a little more now.  That being said, it means more time for a long, involved and (hopefully) profound posting, which hasn't been my norm of late.

At the end of our last session, during the time we have a snack and chat, Gael decided to 'out' me.  As I've noted before, I don't like to reveal my heart stuff until people get to know me, so that it doesn't become my entire identity to others.  This was brought home to me after being at BuxMont a couple of years.  Since I had started going there shortly before the first surgery, no one knew me except as an already sick person.  Being continually compromised meant not being able to participate in things, so that with the exception of my small group most people only knew about me from standing up during Joys & Sorrows to announce another setback/disappointment/surgery/occasional victory....  All this lead to a very nice man relating something I'd just said to his wife with the preface "Laurie, you know?  The one who's always getting up and talking about her heart problems."  Inwardly I cringed, but as much as I wanted to defend my wide range of interests, some notable accomplishments and successes, there really wasn't anything I could say since his interpretation was correct with the information he had.  It raised in me a huge mental note to establish myself as a whole person, not wanting this as my entire identity to people.

The great reveal went fine, they were both seemingly enthralled (well, honestly, it IS a fascinating tale!), asked lots of questions, Gael acknowledged my various advancements over the time she's known me.  But the best thing about relating the years of pain and horror was my recent recognition that my illness really does not define me as much as it did.  It is, of course, integral to my current situation and abilities, and always will be by necessity.  But I've recognized of late that the last eight years becomes one volume in my life, not the whole story.

Now doesn't that sound spiritually advanced!

In looking back over just the last couple years of posts, editing some, correcting grammar in others that were too rapidly composed (sorry, Michael!), the change in my outlook becomes more obvious to me.  While there were certainly moments of epiphany along the way, some times that I made more rapid improvements than others, the overall result is a drastic improvement, even from last year.  It doesn't mean there aren't backslides or bad days, or that there won't still be some, but when looked at in it's entirety what was subtle becomes more obvious.  That's even taking into account my tendency to post and write more when my mood is down rather than when I'm up. The downs aren't as bad as they were, and the ups are more frequent and last longer.  What also needs to be recognized is that my physical health is much improved and it's vastly easier to be positive and hopeful when not gasping for breath.

About a month ago I did another service at BuxMont telling my story.  Having to put ideas floating around in my head into a cohesive and flowing script is very helpful to me, forcing me to organize my thoughts and conclusions that may not have been completely formed.  On hearing (or reading) my conclusions some people seem to believe that I constantly wander around being highly spiritually advanced and aware, but that still isn't the case.  There are flashes of these recognitions, but they  follow hours and hours of thinking, meditating and brutally honest self-assessments.  Those hours aren't separate truths, but serve as stepping stones, several at a time leading to a more advanced place or conclusion.  There are sometimes long plateaus; just as in nature winter is needed for plants to rest and recuperate before they begin to grow again in the spring; constant growth is not possible.  But the inward turning I've so frequently mentioned has been necessary; to grieve and come to terms with my losses.  I don't think you can really move on until you've done this, which is why so many people remain stagnate in their depression.

My heart condition will always be a major factor in my life--that's reality.  There will always be limitations, adjustments to how and what I can do, different expectations than 'normal' people have for their lives.   In the past year, however, I've made a conscious adjustment in my phrasing to saying 'heart condition' as opposed to 'bad heart' or 'diseased heart', and this is more than just a change in the vernacular because it is also a difference in how I relate to my heart and expect other people to view it as well.  My heart is not bad--it's been an incredible champion my whole life, considering it's impressive anomalies.  The change in phrasing doesn't sound like much until you look at the larger implication: it takes my illness out of the negative and puts it into a more neutral statement, one of fact without judgement. 

This doesn't mean that what I've gone through hasn't been horrific, painful and discouraging.  There is no question that it's been a process to cope with the massive number of changes that have occurred in my body, life and spirit as a result.  Virtually all of those changes wouldn't have been my choice without being forced into them.  That is said with the awareness that I was fortunate to even have choices, to be able to maintain much more than many people whose lives have been damaged by severe medical crisis.   And I wouldn't say that I'm glad that my illness happened.   But what you make of the challenges in your life is what defines you as a person.  So, whaddaya going to do?  Be miserable and wallow the rest of your life?  Or push through, cope, grieve and move on? 

Now that the worst is over it is time for a shift of attitude and viewpoint.  What happened to me can't be changed, it wasn't my fault and I didn't deserve any of it.  From the beginning I recognized that the one thing I had control over was my reaction to the situation, and that is still the case.  It is certainly much easier now to not have my illness dictate every single thing I do, to have options.  So I've consciously chosen to change how I relate to myself, which will carry over into how I relate to others as well as their reactions to me.  Because now I can, once again, be much more complete and complex as a person rather than just 'the one with the bad heart problem'.

Ahh, growth.  Isn't it awesome?!

Thanks for following my journey,    Laurie