Silver Linings

Carol's death was an especially dark cloud, yet there have been some wonderful silver linings as well. Yin doesn't go anywhere without her brother Yang.

The outpourings of love and testimonials from Carol's friends were a balm for her suffering and helped her mother accept her daughter's death a little better. Even when Carol could no longer respond, we continued to hold the phone up to her ear so that friends could pass on their well wishes and heartfelt goodbyes. It was a very moving process.

Another silver lining is that Carol's mother and her other daughter (Carol's sister) are now on speaking terms again after many years of estrangement. Their communication is still very tenuous and often quite strained, but at least it's a start.

For me, this whole experience with Carol has provided many opportunities to learn and practice. While it's been quite challenging on many levels, it's also been an honor to share Carol's final chapter with her and her mother. Not only have I been able to explore service in a deeper way than ever before, but I've learned a lot about my capabilities and limitations too.

When I first saw Carol's tumor, I couldn't imagine getting near it. But after a few days, I got used to its look and smell and was able to clean and dress it. (Emptying and changing her colostomy bag was actually quite mild in comparison.) Us humans are so adaptable when we give ourselves the chance. Flexibility---of the body, mind, and emotions---is an important aspect of liberation philosophies.

As for my limitations, it became quite clear that I'm not very good at balancing in my own needs or setting healthy boundaries. I'm too much of a "yes man" and I continually let myself get stretched beyond my mental and physical energy reserves.

And once again, I've been given the opportunity to face the Big Daddy of all fears----Death. (Albeit vicariously, thankfully!) While the fear of death may not seem so obvious in our lives, I feel that it underlies a lot of what we do, from social interactions to work issues to even procreation. I realize that those are some pretty broad areas, but I know there are some psychologists and anthropologists who believe that the fear of death is the motivating factor for everything we do. For example, many of our social interactions can be described as herd instincts based on primal survival programming.

As I mentioned in my last entry, I'm not exactly sure what to learn about death and my fear of it. Perhaps just that I should continue to try to accept them both. (But if anybody else dies around me, I just might call this whole walkabout off!)

This whole episode has also served to remind me how dear my family and friends are to me. Life is tenacious, but it is also fragile. It has become ever so clear how deeply I value the beautiful and wacky souls who are my family and friends. I am very blessed. 

One of the nicest silver linings for me has been getting to know Carol's mother, Maria Teresa. ("Don't ever call me just 'Maria'.") Gracious, sophisticated, and witty, Maria Teresa exudes an Old World charm that demonstrates her upbringing in the aristocracy of Mexico. She had a career as an international diplomat, but feels her era has long since passed. She's also had "five husbands". (She never actually married the last one, a relationship of eleven years.)

At 87 years old, Maria Teresa still has quite a strong constitution, but her eyesite, hearing, and memory are starting to decline a bit, so she needs a lot of support, especially during this chaotic past month so far from her home in Seattle. I escorted her most places arm-in-arm, and we've spent the last few weeks together virtually 24/7. I finally saw her (and Carol's ashes) off on a flight back to Seattle this past weekend. To be honest, it was a big relief, but I will miss her too.

Amidst all the stress and challenges of caring for her dying daughter, Maria Teresa and I became quite close. It's been so painful for her to watch her daughter die and be so far from home and family and friends. I tried to be supportive, but there really wasn't much I could do to allay the grief and emptiness she is feeling. She is a strong woman and she will make it through all of this, but it's going to be a painful process that will take some time.

Rachel, another volunteer caregiver, has been a real breath of fresh air for both of us. Besides being a wonderful emotional support for Maria Teresa, she also helped us take some much-needed breaks. Carol's care entailed a lot of standing, and one of Maria Teresa's toes began to bleed from her uncomfortable designer shoes, so Rachel took her to buy a more comfortable pair. Another day she took her for a haircut. The day after Carol's death, Rachel and I accompanied Maria Teresa to a Catholic mass. Later, we all enjoyed a beautifully blustery evening at the Redondo Beach Pier where Maria Teresa finally got to see one of our famous Southern California beaches.

After Carol's cremation, I took Maria Teresa to some of my favorite spots in Santa Monica and Venice. We started with a stroll in Palisades Park along the bluffs overlooking the beach. I felt Carol would have enjoyed the walk too, so we sauntered along, Maria Teresa on one of my arms and the urn of Carol's ashes in the other. We explored Venice in the same way and Maria Teresa was enchanted by the lovely canals and enjoyed the Bohemian boardwalk too. And of course no tour of Venice would be complete without a visit to that giant sculpture of a clown in a ballerina tutu above the entrance to the Long's pharmacy.

All this time that we've been caring for Carol together, Maria Teresa has been a bit incredulous that I have actually been living a homeless lifestyle. So I also made it a point to show her my alley sleeping nooks and even the spot in Palisades Park where I was ticketed by the police. It looks like someone else may be using my Venice niche since my cardboard insulation has been removed and a ratty old carpet has been thrown down instead. We'll see what's up when I head back one of these nights.

And of course all this time I've also been receiving the benefits of a roof over my head, access to a hot shower, and a full belly. We even had a great time at the kung fu fantasy film "Forbidden Kingdom". (I was looking pretty conspicuous in my "kung fu outfit".) What more could I ask? Well.....how 'bout a bike?! Maria Teresa decided that she would buy me a bike, so she has arranged for me to get one with my chess buddy Rob this coming weekend. Rob's sister is coming out west soon and he will need his bike back from me for her, so Maria Teresa's generous gift will come at the perfect time.

So yes, Maria Teresa is generous, gracious, and charming. But, like her neon red dyed hair, the rest of her is pretty feisty too. In fact, she can get downright cantankerous and quite imperious. She's used to getting what she wants. It's the dark side of her aristocratic social status. (Yang doesn't go anywhere without his sister Yin.) And man, can she ever push my buttons!

As I've already mentioned in a couple of previous entries on conflict ("Openings and Closings" and "Degrees of Separation"), these challenging situations are a great opportunity for practice. What better way are we to become free of getting our buttons pushed than to face these very situations? How I would love to be immune to the slings and arrows of outrageous criticism and respond instead with unconditional peace and compassion.

But I still fail almost every time. I don't always react outwardly, but inwardly I am still reacting. And after a while of this dynamic, it can build up inside me until it comes out in inappropriate ways. One time I'd finally had enough and blew up at her, telling her how rude she was. While it did make her stop and reflect on her behavior, and she even apologized later, it was still not an appropriate response from me, especially to a grieving stressed-out mother whose daughter has just died. The ideal would be to respond compassionately and skillfully, unaffected by her tirades. I'm a long way from that. It's been so humbling to see my reactions, to run head first into my limitations.

But if I clearly reflect upon my responses, I have to admit that there has been some dramatic improvement:  I used to fail 99% of the time, but now I only fail about 98% of the time! I've doubled my success rate!

And hey, I'm an optimist-----the glass ain't 98% empty, it's 2% full!






"Ideas you may believe as absurd ultimately lead to success!"
---my fortune cookie at the Bamboo Restaurant buffet

"If you continually give, you will continually have."
---Maria Teresa's fortune cookie


Maria Teresa: "My father was the last of 21 children."
Me: "Ah, the Catholic Church..."
Maria Teresa: "No. They didn't have television back then."


Me:
"Let's watch 'Harold and Maude'! Woohoo!"
"Yes, I call it praying to the Goddess." (responding to Maria Teresa's question if I am allowed to meditate on women)
"And laziness is the father." (replying to Maria Teresa quoting the proverb "Necessity is the mother of invention." A few examples of the ingenuity of laziness: microwaves, TV remote controls, and blow-up sex dolls.)


Maria Teresa:
"Why thank you. I laid them myself." (after I complimented her scrambled eggs)
"Just enough time to make a baby!" (regarding me becoming a monk nine months ago)
"You are afraid of nothing except only one thing: commitment."
"I promised never to open my legs again!" (an oath made after each of the painful births of her three children)
"I prayed to God to help me be less critical, but he didn't listen to me."
"No one needs what they do not already have."
"You are no monk. But you are a very nice man. Just don't stab me tonight in my sleep!" (my response: "Don't worry, I only have a Swiss army knife. It would take a while to kill you.")
"The priest was young and handsome. What a waste." (regarding the priest who gave Carol her last rites)