Fear, Round Three

Oh, oh, as I head toward the end of my 100 days of Dharma I am running out of art to post.  I'm not a particularly fast painter, and so I am getting down to a few new pieces that need photographing.  This is a really old piece , maybe 6 years old.  It uses hand done collage images manipulated on photoshop.  The work was done for an art licensing company but never made it through the final steps to production.

I am thinking about fear again.  Maybe you've heard enough about fear already?  This time I'm thinking about it in terms of my mother.  Today I went to visit her when the doctor came by.  In an earlier post I made reference to the fact that she wanted to decrease her meds in an effort to speed up the process of dying.  So today I went to have a 3 way chat with her and the doctor.

Now my mother and I have already had several fine conversations on the subject of dying and we had the opportunity to chat again before the doctor arrived.  As much difficulty as I have had with my mother over the years, it seems this is a subject that we have come to talk about without doing any dysfunctional dances over.  (No funky chickens here).  I could tell her that of course the decision is hers but that I don't think it is good to make the decision out of fear (there it is again, that fear thing) or some imagined idea of future events.  She is afraid of her declining mental state.  She refers to it as becoming a vegetable or going crazy.  So we had a really good conversation with the doctor about the choices and options and how he sees it playing itself out.  He agreed that the decision shouldn't be made from a negative point of view.  He was quite accepting of it as an option to minimize suffering.  He said most people just let things take their normal course rather that taking any proactive steps.  He talked about how death is just a part of life.  And he pointed out the fact that if she can engage in this conversation on how to make her exit, she is far from being a vegetable.  He clarified what meds he sees as being key players in the process (diuretics that reduce fluid build up) and that her exit would probably be the result of the kidney's being unable to conduct away the fluid in an efficient enough manner.  He felt because of the fragility of her heart he didn't see her hanging around long enough to become a vegetable.

He asked her about her spiritual beliefs and my mother could tell him about her experience after my father died that she felt he was around in their apt. for about 4 months after, and that convinced her there was something after this life, though she isn't clear on what that might be.  It was a helpful conversation with a really caring and thoughtful doctor.  In the end he said to her well, you've bought your ticket and your waiting in the station, you've made your intentions known.  There is no hurry for you to make your choice.  You can make it at any time and it will probably become clearer to you as time goes on.  He will visit her once a week and the conversation will continue, I think.  Before I left she said I will probably make the choice but I don't know when.  I felt good that she could think and talk about this and contemplate the end of her life quite consciously.  She says she is not afraid to die.

There was so much good Dharma here.  The ultimate acceptance of what is, which my mother and I talked about after the doctor left.  How we create so much disharmony and suffering by fighting against what is.  How this is an opportunity for her to look at that "worry about loosing her mind and saying foolish things".  I suggested she could look at why she felt that way and what that was all about (being vain she suggested later).  I told her in Buddhism the question is who is worried about this?  The part of the Dharma in all of this that is important to me, is that she make her decision based on "right understanding" rather that some faulty logic or out of fear.  I would like to see her, as much as possible, make her exit in a wholesome way, if that choice of words makes sense to you.  I would like to see her working to resolve some karmic issues in this lifetime so she doesn't have to repeat them next time around.  I have great hopes for her end of life process.

In a way I think the whole conversation today took a lot of pressure off her.  The doctor could say to her that he sees the process taking place gradually over the next few to six months even without reducing the meds.  I'm thinking this may release her to actually enjoy and savour her final days here, instead of exuding the bitterness I have perceived over my lifetime.  That is my hope for her.

Working With Words And Fear

I heard a story today from a friend that made me think of two things: fear and the power of words.  My friend was having some difficulty breathing, shortness of breath and so visited her doctor.  He sent her over to the Emergency Dept of her local hospital, the quickest way to get an xray.  In the course of examining her and reading the Xray the attending physician learned she had breast cancer 4 years ago.  He immediately jumped to the conclusion that the fluid they found on her lungs was the result of cancer and told her she was probably now sorry that she had declined conventional treatment and would have to see an oncologist and have chemo or radiation this time.  All this prior to any test results.  Needless to say, my friend was left reeling and spent a very uncomfortable weekend waiting for test results.  By Tuesday she was relieved to hear that the tests showed no cancer.

I felt angry for my friend, that this doctor, a person in a position of power, would have such little knowledge or regard for the power of his own words, that he would share his hasty conclusion and his treatment biases with her in the blink of a beady eye.  It  would seem he had no understanding that  his words would instill deep fear in her.  I assume no one in the helping professions would knowingly set out to arouse fear in another.  I can't know this for sure.  The only thing I can know for sure is that words carry power. They can hurt or they can heal.   They can inspire and create hope.  They are probably as powerful or more so than the drugs and treatments this doctor believes in.

Everyday we use a lot of words, mostly without examining them very carefully.  My friend's story made me think of "right speech", one of the Buddhist eightfold path.  It reminded me of how important it is to consider what we say to others, to hold our words up to the light and examine them carefully as if they were small jewels or perhaps tiny granules of poison.  I was reminded of how we can hurt people with our words without even noticing it.  I was reminded of the energy and power of words and how we should handle these harbingers of joy and harm accordingly.

Then I thought about fear, how it can suddenly well up inside us, for any number of reasons.  The situation my friend faced would incite fear in most people.  I have spent time with the C word and it is a very scary place.  So what do we do with that fear.  Well my experience is that  we hold on for the ride.  We experience it in our bodies, if we can sit there, feel our hearts race and our body tremble.  As much as we can we try to be present for that physical sense, to experience it directly.  Sometimes we can and sometimes our minds race away.  Sometimes we need to get up, have a walk, turn on some music, watch a funny movie; skillful means.  I can remember when my daughter was young, our Naturopath commented about fever, "fever is good  but you don't want it to overwhelm the body."  My experience with fear is the same,  that sometimes if the fear is intense we may need some relief from it.

And if you watch fear, it comes and goes, just like everything else, it is impermanent.  We might think it is always there, but there is an ebb and flow to it.  And mostly if we can just stay with it for the wild ride, we find that it either changes or it isn't exactly how we thought it would be.  And if we are present for it, we can take the next tiny little step needed and keep moving and readjusting from the points along the path.  And weirdly fear can be an opportunity, an opportunity to connect with others, to experience their caring and generosity of spirit, an opportunity to soften up a little, to recognize how vulnerable and frightened we all are inside, an opportunity to get to know ourselves and how we operate just a little bit better.

There is a sign I love in the parking lots of some of the regional parks around here.  The signs read, "Thieves operate in this area."  (like they have some kind of special permit or license).  We are kind of like the park.  You never know when fear will operate in your area.