In a parallel universe, I'm sitting on my lanai in Atlanta--possibly enjoying a refreshing beverage as I get our garden back into shape after an eight month absence. As lovely as my husband's Mexico assignment was, it is now a fond memory with numerous photographs and mementos to remind us of the blessings of the universe. I am preparing meals again in my own kitchen with my own utensils and asking Alexa--in English--to set multiple timers. I'm making plans to visit my favorite museums and catching up with friends in person and not over FaceTime or Zoom. In a parallel universe...
Everything was set. Transportation to the border was guaranteed with dependable drivers. Everything was packed meticulously. Keys were in an envelope ready to be surrendered to the landlord as we made ourselves comfortable in an AirB&B for a couple nights. Mexico would soon be in our rearview mirror and a multi-state road trip with stops in Austin and Baton Rouge was on the horizon. You know that John Lennon quote "Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans?" He was right. All hell broke loose in the midst of all this complex preparation. And the central theme was PAIN. I wrote all about pain in my last article. Let's re-visit it shall we?
I wrote about how A Course in Miracles (a set of books designed for self-guided spiritual psychotherapy) reminds us that pain is in one's mind. The mind controls the body--not the other way around. I wrote that essay while relatively pain-free although I do live with chronic, recurring pain due to multiple physical ailments. Anyone who has experienced real debilitating pain can tell you that while you are experiencing such pain, nothing else exists. It overrides all the circuitry. It causes outbursts of crying and sobbing and--in the case of the pain I experienced last Wednesday into Friday--a thought very real occured that I would gladly choose death instead of this if they were my only two choices. It wasn't just a kidney stone as that would have been bad enough but controllable with medication and proper treatment. But it was more than that. I had a very serious kidney infection that, left untreated, could result in sepsis. A surgical procedure was necessary. My body was failing me and my mind wasn't able to turn that around. Or...maybe it was but I wasn't there yet spiritually. I tried the mantras: I am not a body. I am free. I could see this differently. I could see Peace instead of this. I might as well have been throwing gasoline onto a raging fire. All that those reminders did for me was to let me know that they weren't working.
I still believe that as long as we identify with the body--that is, tell ourselves that our body is who we are--we will experience pain. I guess my frustration went full ego as I castigated myself for not "getting it" after all these years of studying and praying and meditating. Was it all for naught? That's certainly what the ego was telling me. Just throw in the towel. It's downhill from here, buddy. It doesn't take much when it comes to pain for the ego to escort you back to hell...quickly. But I wouldn't be writing this essay if the pain was still present. It was severe but temporary. But it was also a reminder that the body my spirit seems to inhabit is also temporary. Very temporary in the big scheme of things.
What was I supposed to learn from all this? Was I doing too much physical activity? Was it a mistake to try a zip line for the first time in my life a couple weeks ago? Was I not drinking enough water? All good questions considering my previous health issues and age but those really aren't the right questions and they certainly wouldn't provide me with the right answers. I certainly could treat my body better--no doubt about that. But I needed to know the deeper, metaphysical reason that I felt such pain. I started to think of a word that just kept coming up over and over again. And it was soon joined by another word that started to float around in my consciousness around the same time. The first word was forgiveness and the second one was surrender. I kind of "got" the surrender word because there was really little I could do but surrender to the moment, to the pain--at the time of its occurrence. But forgiveness? That singular word that holds such weight not only with The Course but in a general sense flashed reminding me of that last essay on pain. Wasn't that part of the essay? I had to check. I wrote about a fleeting moment where I actually experienced diminished--even eradicated--pain. Certainly the pain was not of the magnitude that occurred with this recent bout but it shocked me that I was able to use my mind--however briefly--to eliminate pain. I shared a lesson from the workbook (198) that prompted the realization: "Only my condemnation injures me. Only my own forgiveness sets me free. Do not forget today that there can be no form of suffering that fails to hide an unforgiving thought. Nor can there be a form of pain forgiveness cannot heal." There it was. The forgiveness component of pain management.
The realization that I have very far to go on this "forgiveness" matter is making things clearer to me. I have some difficulty with surrender but I have a wall (very thick) when it comes to forgiveness. And forgiveness--through the eyes of A Course in Miracles--is not the same forgiveness that I learned growing up in the Catholic Church. Forgiveness is difficult in that framework as well. We all know the drill: ..."we forgive those who trespass against us" as a way of being the bigger person, the righteous Christian. They've sinned. That doesn't change. But we "forgive" them. Forgiveness as it is expressed in A Course in Miracles turns that concept on its head. According to the Preface of the course, "The world we see merely reflects our own internal frame of reference—the dominant ideas, wishes and emotions in our minds. 'Projection makes perception'. We look inside first, decide the kind of world we want to see and then project that world outside, making it the truth as we see it. We make it true by our interpretations of what it is we are seeing. If we are using perception to justify our own mistakes—our anger, our impulses to attack, our lack of love in whatever form it may take—we will see a world of evil, destruction, malice, envy and despair. All this we must learn to forgive, not because we are being 'good' and 'charitable,' but because what we are seeing is not true. We have distorted the world by our twisted defenses, and are therefore seeing what is not there. As we learn to recognize our perceptual errors, we also learn to look past them or 'forgive.' At the same time we are forgiving ourselves, looking past our distorted self-concepts to the Self That God created in us and as us." (from the Preface to A Course in Miracles) In other words, we're not forgiving sin. We're forgiving the illusion of sin. I have a long list of illusions I've never forgiven. I've tried. And I've even tried forgiving myself because when I forgive my brother, I am forgiving myself.
A second surgical procedure is scheduled for Friday of this week if my lab work and CT scans look okay for the doctor. I have a few days to see where forgiveness takes me. Pain could return. But if it does--if it stays--if it comes and goes in any form, I need only remember that there is no form of pain that forgiveness cannot heal. I'm praying for a miracle. At least I know what to focus on.
