On Being Healthy - The Absence of Sickness -

I had a crummy March - the influenza flu kicked my butt, and I'm still getting back to health - a lingering cold sore (my first in 39 years) is a constant reminder to slow down, sleep, take care of my body and my soul. And yet looking back on March and this much of April, I'd say I'm happy and healthy. Interesting that the absence of sickness can often mean healthy, regardless of whether or not we are fully well.

I'm reminded of this day 6 years ago - having my port removed meant I was moving forward to healthy, even though, looking back, I was definitely not a robust being. Yet the absence of cancer-related appointments and the releasing phrase, "Go home and heal," subtly meant closure and joy and health.

Today I happened on two bits of information that reiterate these thoughts. First, an amazing Tedx talk by Robert Waldinger (reminds me of teacher Parker Palmer). It is in regards to a study by the Harvard School of Adult Development, studying more than 700 men for more than 75 years studying health and happiness. And the simple summary is this phrase, "Good relationships keep us happier and healthier." How profound, how simple, yet how complicated. Waldinger quotes Mark Twain, "Some of the worst thing sin my life never happened," and again, "There isn't time, so brief is life, for bickerings, apologies, heartburnings, callings to account. There is only time for loving, and but an instant, so to speak, for that."

I was impressed with Waldinger's calm joyful presence. He radiates that which he has studied. And as I was learning more about Waldinger and this study, I learned that he is also a Zen priest. Which answers my wondering about his peace.

So searching to understand him more, I found this blog, and this post, not too very long ago, and my message above and the post I've pasted below, pretty much reiterates where I am today.

Happy Friyay!

TUESDAY, JANUARY 29, 2019

On Not Having a Headache

water spout gargoyle, Italy

After a couple of weeks of enduring various bouts of illness, including bronchitis caused by a virus that kept moving from one part of the body to another (lungs, sinus, throat) I am noticing the absence of sickness as a most subtle joy.  This feeling is physical, emotional and mental.  It arises as a softness and ease in navigating the world.

When I'm sick, I often resign myself to feeling tired and miserable forever.  This attitude, while admittedly negative and fairly depressing,  has the positive effect of eliminating the anxiety that comes with wondering when and if I will ever feel good again.

I've been lucky in my life so far -- my various chronic conditions have very mild or absent symptoms, and it's only when I'm struck down by a bacterial infection, headache or virus that I get to experience what many people know intimately on a daily basis.  I'm reminded, in this tender presence of the absence of illness, of the Vietnamese Zen teacher Thich Nhat Hanh's description of the return of health as "the feeling of not having a headache."  When we are suffering, we forget what the absence of suffering feels like.  It's so subtle...and so sweet.  I'm planning to enjoy it until it changes once again into something challenging.  The memory of illness acts as a reminder to have empathy for everyone who struggles with ill health, while knowing that at some point I will once again join this noble company of suffering myself.