Some of the worst times in my life have turned out to be the impetus for some of the best times. When I was diagnosed with cancer, I examined my choices in a close way. I didn’t make a lot of changes immediately, but I planted seeds that led to improvement in my lifestyle and my health. It led me to become certified in Hospice and Palliative Medicine in 2013.
When circumstances combined so I wasn’t able to maintain my private practice, I found my way back to the compassionate, supportive team at the HIV Clinic. Though I wrote several escape fantasy poems, I clung fiercely to the life that I knew. It was the only way forward that I could see. It’s only in retrospect that it became clear: what seemed like a destructive process was really a deliverance,
Writing and Spirituality
“Surrender” was one of the fantasy poems I wrote while in private practice. This poem was heavily influenced by my spiritual reading, the Tao Te Ching by Lao Tzu. One of the interesting concepts of Taoism is the idea of the usefulness of emptiness.
The empty space inside a clay pot is what makes it useful. The empty space inside of a musical instrument is what makes it resonant and beautiful. The skillful Taoist butcher has a blade that is never dull because he guides it through the empty spaces between the joints.
But the emptiness would not exist without the fullness that creates it. The useful empty pot would not exist without the clay. The music inside a flute would not exist without the reed; neither would the trapped air which makes a raft float exist without the wood.
Most people are familiar with the yin/yang symbol, the symbol of Taoism. It represents the spectrum of duality, of polar opposites of which everything is made. Heat and cold, empty and full. The symbol also represents the fact that each half, whether dark or light, contains the seed of its opposite.
While these seem like heady, esoteric concepts, once they are grounded into the real-life skills of resilience and reframing, they begin to make some sense. The worst of times contains the seed for the best; when looked at in a different way, emptiness becomes useful.
Resilience and Reframing
These transition times have been painful, don’t get me wrong. But my life is more balanced and more fulfilling now than at any previous time. And I get to continue practicing resilience. Last week, I had a minor disappointment when I realized that my dream for a weekly writing class for my colleagues wasn’t going to work. The reality is that the healthcare worker’s day is unpredictable.
I didn’t spend a lot of time being sad or angry. I began problem solving, and I began letting go of wanting things to be different than they are. These are the fruits of mindfulness. I sent an email out to if a monthly drop-in class might work. I’m not giving up on the idea, just on how it’s going to manifest.
[Now that I’m retired, the weekly class is a reality, thanks to Zoom.]