Yesterday I had a panic attack.
Friday I had the lung biopsy which was nothing to fear. I felt nothing, and just had to stay there for 5 hours afterwards to make sure my left lung did not collapse.
But the radiologist who performed the biopsy left me with such red hot and freezing cold fear that I was incapacitated for 24 hours. He said he could not make out what that blotch was on the scan. He said it was 50/50 that it was small cell lung cancer. Ever the nosy kind, I looked it up and found out that it is a rare lung cancer seen only in 20% of cases, always among smokers (never smoked once in my life) and FATAL. Thanks for scaring the hell out of me.
I realize that Drs. at S-K are there FOR CANCER. I realize that they cannot afford to just cheerlead their patients since they do have to pronounce death sentences on some.
But for God's sake, how about giving me the other 50% probability??
I remained in hot/cold sweated fear, conceiving that my death would be measured in horrible pain-filled months. I could not stop shaking, and when I went out to lunchwith Erica and Simon (daughter and son-in-law) I shook so badly that I spilled juice and drinks all over the table.
Then I went off to get my hair cut very very short, awaiting the inevitable hair loss. Until the news of the lung spot was received, I had grieved more about my hair than anything related to treatment. My hair has always been a source of pride for me. Born a blondish red head, I have been told that blonds have more hair than other shades, and that I have 3x the follicles as other women. So although my hair does have a mind of its own, once handled by Rossana, my stylist, I feel as though I had had a complete makeover, and walk out of the salon feeling renewed.
Ro did a splendid job, giving me a pixie cut rather than a buzz, which would have looked ugly. With stylish long dangly earrings, i can pass for, well, OK. I will go retrieve my new wig this week, which makes me look like my "old self."
So what is the "old" and "new" self, this fiction?? It does not exist, and I really acknowledge that at this time:
Ken from One Taste, pp. 465--468
"The world is illusory, which means you are not any object at all---nothing that can be seen is ultimately real. You are neti, neti, not this, not that. And under no circumstances should you base4 your salvation on that which is finite, temporal, passing, illusory, suffering-enhancing and agony-inducing.
"Brahman alone is real, the Self...alone is real---the poure Witness, the timeless Unborn, the formless Seer, the radical I-I, radiant emptiness---is what is real and all that is real. It is your condition, your nature, your essence, your present and your future, your desire and your destiny, and yet it is always ever-present as pure Presence, the alone that is Alone....
"There is neither creation nor destruction,
Neither destiny nor free-will;
Neither path nor achievement;
This is the final truth." Ramana Maharshi
What led me to abandon my gentle abiding and go into a panic attack? Who panicked, and why? Fear of suffering imminently. Fear of dying before seeing my grandchildren. Fear of not-being. Obviously the small self, the ego, considered its death, and as always, set into motion more suffering.
I wish....I wish I had a belief system that provided me with a tale of a wondrous afterlife with angels and harps and cherubs and God and me chatting....But that system would havge to include every sentient being, and everyone behaving themselves! I suppose that is why we cordon off our belief in heavens...only "my" tribe can come into this heaven. But hey, have we ever gotten along with our whole tribe at any time??
But I do not have such a calming story. Much more do I demand of myself.....It is what I share with my "students" at Oner Spirit, yet in truth, I believe that we are all working to abide within IT which is already ever There with us.
At some point yesterday I "popped" out of the panic attack. It had a beginning, a middle, and and end. It was not "me", it was an emotion which my clever daughter fed back to me. God girl!! She is listening and thinking and absorbing!!
I then spent the rest of the day back where I have been all along, Athena, Amazonian one-breasted warrior woman. So how do I explain what happened for those hours of melt-down? And how do I learn to live into those times, learn from them, and short-circuit their appearance?
Ken from One Taste, p. 533
" Resting int that Freedom and Emptiness---and inmpartially witnessing all that arises--you will notice that the separate-self (or ego) simply arises in consciousness like everything else. You can actually feel the self-contraction, just like you can feel your legs....The self-contraction is a feeling of interior tension, often localized behind the eyes, and anchored in a slight muscle tension throughout the bodymind. It is an effort and a sensation of contracting in the face of the world. It is a subtle whole-body tension,. Simply notice this tension.
"Once people have become comfortable resting as the empty Witness, and once they notice the tension that is the self-contraction, they imagine that...they have to get rid of the self-contraction....Just that is the second mistake, because it actually locks the self-contraction firmly into place....
"The only thing that wants to get rid of the ego is the ego. Spirit loves everything that arises, just as it is....
"But the ego, convinced that it can become even more entrenched, decides to play the game of getting rid of itself----simply because, as long as it is playing that game, it obviously continues to exist (who else is playing the game?)...."
"and so, the practice? Whe3n you rest in the Witness, or rest in I-I, or rest in emptiness, simply notice the self-contraction. Rest in the Witness, and feel the self-contraction. When you feel the self-contraction, you are already free of it...."
And that is precisely what I did yesterday. I went into the icy hot contraction radiataing out of my stomach and manifesting into cold sweat. I noticed it.
And popped out of the panic attack.
Tomorrow I drive down to Basking Ridge, NJ to S-K's beautiful regional out patient center amidst a corporate campus surrounded by forests and streams. They have come to understand the effect of enviornment on the body-mind intersection. The main campus hospital in NYC is furnished tastefully with enough to drink and munch that you can imagine sitting in the Continental Lounge at Newark awaiting a flight. The outpatient center is tranquil, open, with fish tanks and areas to sit and do work looking out of the floor to ceiling windows overlooking the woods. Last time I was there I saw a hawk fly by the entire lenth of the room...gorgeous creature....
I understand that each treatment center is a little cubicle that provides ultimate privacy so that I do not sit in a line similar to a hair salon with a row of women under the dryers, or in this case, hooked up to IVs. I'm supposed to brting a bag of snacks, lots of water, and things to keep me busy during the--I think--1 1/2 hrs. I will be there.
I will bring Ken's and Patricia's book and read them. They are my tutors, my reminders.
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