It’s been a month since I wrote in this blog. On November 3 (election evening), I was suddenly hit by a wave of pain that turned out to be an aortic dissection which is a tear in your aorta. It is a serious heart condition which, in my case, can be treated with medications to help the aorta repair itself. I was in ICU for 9 days, which was intense. This past few days I am starting to feel some semblance of normality in my body.
I believe that a ‘crisis’ is an opportunity for learning new ways of being and for letting go of old ways of being that weren’t helpful. I am finding this to be so true in this case.
First, some basic ideas about attention
We know from science that every moment that we are conscious we need to process the often overwhelming amount of information that is coming through our senses. In every moment our mind, often unconsciously, makes three determinations:
• to decide what to pay attention to
• to identify what it is (e.g., the backfire of a car as opposed to a gunshot) and
• to assign a value to the experience: pleasant, unpleasant, or neutral.
These three determinations are hardwired and part of evolution. For example, there is survival value in paying attention and identifying the information that is coming in.
The power of pure mindfulness
Pure mindfulness means that we bring a curious and nonjudgmental awareness to what we are attending to. During my stay in Intensive Care, I became acutely aware of the power of pure mindfulness, especially toward experiences that were unpleasant.
During the first few days in ICU, even though I was on oxygen, I often felt like I was not getting enough oxygen. On several occasions I panicked and pressed the call button. In each case, the nurse was able to calm me down.
One time, in a blinding flash of the obvious, I decided (1) to bring total curiosity to my breath—where exactly did I feel it? what did it feel like? etc, and (2) to be nonjudgmental. I realized that I was trying to control the in-breath (trying to make it deeper) and trying to control the out-breath (forcing it). When all my attention was curious and I let go of trying to control my breath, an amazing calmness came over me and everything was fine. It was a powerful lesson in the consequences of non-mindful and mindful awareness of fear.
Focusing on ‘heart’ energy
Gratitude is one of many ‘heart’ practices. It has not always been a regular companion in my life, and I spent a lot of time and energy to develop gratitude some years ago. Since then I am aware of gratitude many times every day.
During my time in ICU, I became aware of another practice that I have been trying to develop—to appreciate a sense of wonder and beauty throughout the day. I can do this in huge moments like stopping to witness a beautiful sunset, or seeing the trees during autumn, or being with my three-year-old granddaughter or the six- and three-year-old boys next door to whom I like a grandfather.
During my time in ICU, I realized I was in a state of wonder much more often.
• Sometimes the wonder was a sense of awe at all the IV bags that were pumping medicines into my body to keep me alive.
• Sometimes it was eating my favorite meal of the day: eggs, bacon, toast, and coffee. To a visitor, this was a far cry from what you could make at home or get at a good restaurant. However I savored every bite of the food and every gulp of the coffee.
• Once I was able to take walks around ICU, with assistance, I noticed and felt each step and reveled in all the sights and sounds in the ICU.
Since leaving the hospital, I have practiced noticing beauty and wonder throughout the day, not just in the obvious moments, but also the “ordinary” moments.
• Looking out my window right now—the blue sky (yesterday it poured all day yesterday), the clouds, the shapes of the trees
• Really seeing my wife’s or my daughter’s face and aware of all the love between us
• Noticing plants whose leaves are still green at the end of November
• Hearing a bird song outside my window.
• Hearing the heavy rain yesterday, much needed during this time of drought in New England.
• Appreciating the beauty of some of the cards which friends sent me.
I am reminded of a line in a poem called St. Francis and the Sow by Galway Kinnell: “sometimes it is necessary to reteach a thing its loveliness.” For me this is remembering the loveliness of sights, sounds, smells, and feelings of connection with other people and with the natural world.