From a Distance

Quote to follow.

Day 261. Short blog, as I am headed for a road trip. I am developing a great knack for traveling to destinations lacking computer access. Frankly, I'm growing fond of this particular expertise. A laptop is still nowhere on my horizon.

Peak experience! I just caught the end of an NCIS episode. It was the one in which Gibbs (who, with full acknowledgment that Jethro Gibbs is a fictional character, I would take a leap with any day!) teaches his team how to investigate the old fashioned way because a power outage has temporarily silenced their computers. In the closing moments of the show, the power comes back on, and the office is filled with the sound of keyboards furiously clicking away as the younger members of the team recover from their brief hiatus from their respective cyber-worlds. Gibbs looks around at their rapt absorption, glances at his own computer, and promptly turns it off. Gassho, Gibbs!

I have a bad back. This would be considered an understatement by the last neurosurgeon with whom I consulted. This was the man who leisurely guided me on a protracted tour down the length of his X-ray viewing hall while he blissfully interpreted the extensive flaws in my spine, the intricacies of which were artistically splayed upon the walls, illuminated in high def from my latest MRI. He appeared to derive no small measure of sadistic anticipation as he described the eight-hour surgery he recommended to correct the various defects of my crooked column. I politely declined. Went to physical therapy. Placed third in my age category in a major triathlon less than a year later. Surgeons like to cut. Triathletes would rather swim and run and pedal.

I digress (perhaps the thought of Jethro Gibbs lingers?). My point is that my back causes me pain sometimes. Exquisite, terrifying, debilitating pain. Exquisite because the pain, when it arrives, formulates itself as an exact replica of the structural abnormalities described by the neurosurgeon. Debilitating because my legs go numb, which has the potential to pitch me forward in what my son has affectionately labeled "The Lurch." Terrifying because of the potential to ground me from the bike, thereby squelching a major reason for living.

After a hefty run of pain free months, I am apparently having a back episode. Highly inconvenient, seeing as how I am driving my parents and British friends back to Jefferson tomorrow. Poor timing, since mountain bike season formally arrives in the imminent future. It is tempting to become exorbitantly attached to the idea of my back ceasing to hurt. I am resisting the temptation.

Instead, I have decided to practice some of the skills I learned from Arpita, the teacher at the Metta Meditation. She provided a guided imagery in which we rested consciousness on various parts of our bodies, registering without opinion the status of each part. She then suggested we send loving kindness to parts that were in pain or otherwise suffering. The goal was not to stop the pain, rather, to practice detachment from it. Sort of a practice of Radical Acceptance of that which was hurting us.

Historically, I create and wallow in "meta-pain" when my back hurts, i.e. being in pain about my pain. This level of hurting exacerbates the very real physical pain caused by scoliosis, bike wrecks, and being hit by a car. Meta-pain wraps my back pain in a layer of tension, depression, helplessness, despair, fear and anger -- none of which is a very effective analgesic.

Tonight I will try to engage a different response. This is the first time since beginning to meditate and blog that I have had so much pain. I'll probably need to alter my sitting position; fortunately my teacher had back problems and demonstrated several acceptable alternative meditation positions. I am going to engage in loving kindness towards my back. Practice acceptance of its defects and non-attachment to having a more robust spine. Dwell in the reality of my current physical Self as it Is. Become centered on my breath rather than the negative feeling states that threaten to cloak my already tender nervous system.

I will blog about how it turns out. I don't expect my pain to be remedied. I just want to watch it from a distance.

Gassho,
CycleBuddhaDoc