I have written before about how mindfulness practices have been so helpful during the past seven months since I suffered an aortic dissection on November 3. The 9 days in ICU, waiting for the delicate surgery in January, and the limitations on my activities since then, including chronic fatigue, all presented significant challenges--and opportunities.
So I thought I was doing fine when I went to Dartmouth on June 2 for a follow-up CT scan. While the surgeon had told us that a further surgery was possible, it was still so shocking to learn that an aneurysm was forming between two of the stents he had inserted in January. I was going to need a further surgery. It would be similar to the January surgery in that it would be laparoscopic and this time only one stent would be inserted. However, it would still be a delicate surgery, with risks.
On the ride home from Lebanon, I was reeling. As I brought mindfulness to my thoughts and emotions, I came to a deeper understanding of what mindfulness really is: it means to be aware of and accepting of ALL our thoughts, even the ones we don't like. During that ride, I realized that since November, I had really pushed aside internal voices like: Why me?, I hate this, this is not fair, I'm tired of this, I don't know if I can go on. I had dismissed those thoughts as not useful and instead focused on being positive and moving forward. On that day those thoughts would not be silenced.
So I tried something different, which initially did not feel like mindfulness at all. I opened what felt like Pandora's box and let these voices out of their cages. Rather than fight them and suppress them, I let them wash over me. At this point, my mindfulness practice was to take a step back and simply be a witness to that swirling energy of thoughts and emotions. The voices said they wanted a break, that they were tired of me trying to be strong all the time. They wanted junk food. They wanted to just watch TV and chill. They did not want to exercise and to meditate. After two days of eating a fair amount of candy and watching almost every sports event on TV, I woke up feeling good--ready to meditate, exercise, eat better. That lasted only a few hours and then back in the dump. A couple days later it felt like these parts of me had felt fully heard and were part of the family again, instead of being ostracized or banished.
When I reflected on this time, I realized that paying attention to these voices does not mean wallowing in self-pity. Rather it has made me more open to the natural feelings of grief, sadness, anger, and despair that are normal when facing a life-threatening illness. This illness has meant major changes in my life--not being able to do exercise vigorously, limitations on lifting objects, and fairly extreme fatigue. It also means that I am at greater risk of another dissection which could happen at any time without warning and kill me. It's like walking around with a bomb inside me that could go off at any time.
Mindfulness practice gives me choices in how I respond. When such thoughts and emotions do arise, I am now meeting all of them with a kind, caring attention, instead of fighting or hating them--most of the time! When I do this, I can see the whole picture, part of which I had been missing for months.
One of the common misconceptions about mindfulness is that it means stopping the thoughts that might be viewed as non-productive. A common instruction during mindfulness practice is "when you realize your mind has wandered, gently bring your attention back to the breath." Doing this simple practice can have a wonderful effect of calming one's mind which is wonderful.
However, when it is at the cost of pushing away or suppressing thoughts and/or feelings that are undesirable, there is a price we pay. Ultimately, mindfulness practice involves not just paying attention, but welcoming all those parts within us--with curiosity, compassion and acceptance. While there are many ways to practice mindfulness, ultimately the goal is to see what is happening more clearly. I have a renewed appreciation for how subtle and challenging this process can be.