Things happen in life that give one a different sense of identity and of reality. There may be social reasons we keep such things to ourselves like a fear of rejection, change in self-image; or simply an introverted temperament. (Introverts feel the need to internally process experience before involving others.) I’ve had such an experience and my first impulse was to quietly withdraw from my community activities and avoid announcing something that would create unnecessary attention. Of course, my family knew but, for the first week or so, I kept it even from my local spiritual community where I’ve been involved for nearly 30 years.
Even though this spiritual community is founded on healing and prayer, along with meditation and spiritual exploration, my first inclination was to not bother anyone about it. The few that knew respected my wish for privacy, but the distance I saw that this secrecy put between us soon felt as wrong as if I’d kept it from my family. My spiritual community is a larger family and I am a part of theirs. So I decided to come out of this particular closet that would have become evident anyway. After all, the people who care would welcome being on this journey with me. So, today, the minister of the spiritual center is attending on her well-deserved day off to make the announcement and lead the community in prayers for my support and healing for this life-changing event.
So, today, it becomes public: 12 days ago I had a stroke. The medical people say it was “mild”, but it hasn’t felt mild, having no perspective beyond my own. I must be careful walking so my leg doesn’t drag, and use of my left hand is greatly diminished, so to dress, eat or open a jar are challenges and take longer than I’m used to. I’ve always been self-sufficient, helping others where I can, serving my communities. In addition to just being introverted, I think some of my hesitance is that I wouldn’t be able to adequately respond to the attention that could come my way.
I’ve had to rely on my wife more than ever. My daughters and son have been digging up information for me and looking at medical reports. On the one hand (so to speak), trying to do familiar things has made me even more aware of my level of disability. On the other hand (actually, the same hand), I’ve seen some surprising improvement over the last week or so. On Wednesday and yesterday, I was able to fire up the snowblower and clear out the driveway. It may sound impressive but the snowblower is essentially a motorized walker and, when my leg dragged, there was just snow and ice underfoot, so it went along smoothly – but I was absolutely exhausted by the task.
Spoiler alert: political comments coming. I’ve spent a lot of time resting, and I’ve had time to think about a lot of things: the state of our world, the irresponsibly-ignored climate crisis, my mortality, the apparent randomness of “acts of God,” fate, individuality, and innumerable political issues. I wonder what people do when they don’t have health insurance for a three-day hospital stay and all the tests I had, medication changes, and the OT and PT that begin tomorrow; and don’t have caring and functional families or communities to support them. The national healthcare controversy has become very personal. And I’m very aware that I am lucky to have been blessed (read “privileged”) by generations of courageous people who fought for workers’ rights and benefits. It’s not a theoretical or partisan struggle: these things affect people’s lives.
I’ve also thought of my gender and religious nonconforming friends and family, which is why I used the provocative title “Coming Out.” The parallels in my situation are so minuscule compared to someone who has been given an identity by their society, based on externals. After all, internal truths are so often a threat to established ideologies and institutions that are, themselves, broken and dishonest. I’ve heard their struggles imposed by dysfunctional families, hostile social organizations, and hypocritical and dis-compassionate religious institutions. My “difference” is now excused from conformity and is much more likely to be met with compassion, support and sympathy than those who are judged and then are abused, blamed or exiled from their families. More than ever, my sympathy is with the rejected, the different and the vulnerable.
I’ve had benefit of prayers and good wishes from many quarters for which I am endlessly grateful: family, Prayer Chaplains, friends; from Christians, Druids, Shamans and other circles that will not be named; along with acupuncture and Rosicrucian healing techniques. I don’t think the Good God cares one iota about their religious persuasion but about what is found in their hearts.
I’m happy to hear from people but have limited energy for consistent responding.
Oh, and happy birthday to Edgar Alan Poe today.