The Winter of Life...

You know, I discovered recently that time has a way of
catching us unaware...

Even though spiritually speaking "time" is only a construct,
the body lives in a time-bound reality, subject to "time"
and deterioration...

I meandered into my 70's last October,
eyesight diminished, and hard of hearing -
What?  Are you talkin' to me?
Guess that means hearing aids...
Are you kidding me!? - resistance set in...

But here it is...  The Winter of my life has arrived,
catching me a little off guard.  I don't know why,
I see it in my hands...

It was as if some switch went off (or on) in my body
 when I turned 70 that whispered -  "body - old."

I could feel it in my body.  Actually, I felt my body
beginning to wind down years ago, but 70 was more
distinct, more of a palpable - "click" - as if time
started counting down - in earnest.

And then there was a fall in November,
a stumble that laid me up for a month!
And then some kind of respiratory "flu" in
December - the cough lasting 6 weeks!
All taking its toll on the body.
Even though I know "I" am not my body -
still...  it's wearing out;
this vehicle that has carried me this far...

Others have told me aging is all in your head.
meaning the mind.
But, the mind is going too!  Acuity left when
I wasn't looking, and memory is fogged in.
Maybe I'll forget that I'm getting old. :)
That's the biggest shocker - feeling old,
and not remembering things...

Scary

The furniture seems a little lower than it was;
harder to get up... toilet too.
It's harder to get around - stiffness has replaced
what fluidity I knew.  The grey hair has set in
around the edges.  And I see where I'm headed in
the faces of other "older women" now...

I wonder - will this "aging" affect my sense of
"knowing" the "Spirit" that animates this body?
"The Mystery", the Ineffable, Pure Awareness,
Consciousness, The Silence, "God", the Self;
however one calls IT.

Will I forget it all - that I've tried so hard to
remember...

That's my biggest "anxiety" -
If I "lose" my mind
will I remember Who "I" Really Am -
the Essence of "me"...

Do I even know that now...

Mystic Meandering
Jan. 24, 2020

~

There is a touching innocence in
the mystery of the human self.
Even after thousands of years of
experience and reflection,
we still remain a mystery to ourselves.
There is something deeply unpredictable
and unfathomable.
...Even when you approach yourself tenderly
with the candle of receptive and reverential
seeing, all you achieve is a glimpse...

John O'Donohue
from - Eternal Echoes

~

Photo - Mystic Meandering

Reflections - Alzheimer's

Our time visiting with B’s mother last weekend was poignant.  It went much better than expected.  We had been told by family members that she was unable to see, hear, and was pretty much withdrawn into herself, having been diagnosed with "Alzheimer's."  We were unexpectedly surprised, as she was quite coherent – recognizing both B and me.  “She” was not absent, not blank.  She could see, not well, but well enough to recognize us, and could read large letters on her birthday cards.  She could hear with the aid of her cochlear implant, although it was intermittent.  We soon let go of the imposed label of “Alzheimer's” and just experienced her as she was – engaging with her as she was – not having expectations for how she was supposed to be – either way – coherent or confused.

We had been instructed by family members that it was okay to ask her questions, but we found that barraging her with questions to see what she could remember was unnecessary.  There were many things she remembered. Instead, after an initial barrage of questions, we just sat there with her, quietly, just being present with her, enjoying the silence without expectation of interaction.  B and I sat across from each other while his mother gently rolled back and forth in her wheelchair between us; which I found interesting behavior.    Before long she spoke, saying she had to be in the care center (which she thought was a hospital) until she got “better” (meaning until her broken arm had healed – which it has) but did’t think she would get out of there.  She said she just wanted to go home.   She wanted to know if she could come live with us…  We were told that Alzheimer’s patients do that.  They want to leave (escape) and go “home” – wherever “home” is in their minds.  But we were struck by her question.  It was deliberate and pointed right at B.   She turned away from me as if I wouldn’t hear, and asked: Can I come live with you?  Oh dear… What do you do with that!

It was quite clear from our time with her that although she clearly had diminished capacity, memory, and had moments of confusion – often asking if her mother was going to come to her birthday party, and repeatedly asking us how long we were going to be there, she also was quite *aware* and knew exactly what she did and *didn’t* want.  Had she lost connection with herself?  It didn’t appear so to us.  Her personality was still quite in tact, including mannerisms of speech and nuance of affect that I clearly remember. 

Her birthday party was filled with laughter, as she quipped that she was surprised that she had lived that long, hoping that she would have more birthdays “here” (in the care center).  You could see the pleasure as well as the lostness on her face.  Interesting. 

On our last evening there, after an agitating incident in which I innocently tried to get her to eat her dinner, she told me I should go have dinner and come back later, then closed her eyes and withdrew somewhere into herself, and rapidly rolled her wheelchair back and forth at the table, occasionally peeking to see if I was still there.  I began to wonder if it would be better if I left the room.  This went on for nearly an hour.  They said she was soothing herself with this movement.  But what was she agitated about – was it the loss of control, being directed to eat when she didn’t want to.   She was clearly angry.  Was she not able to handle the emotion, and this was her way of soothing it – like an autistic child?  Who can say…

Later, we each went to her to tell her that we were leaving.  When it came my turn, I was tentative as I bent down, looked in her eyes and said I was leaving.  With sad eyes she said, you’re leaving with B aren’t you… as if she had remembered that we were leaving the next day, resigned to the fact of our departure.  Once again I was surprised.  She lifted her hand and placed it on my face as we stared into each other’s eyes.  A poignant moment of connection…  Someone is still “home”…

Photo:
An unfinished mandala,
like an unfinished life…

"Simple Minded"

My mother is becoming more “simple minded” – meaning – she is showing clearer signs of dementia. She has been “showing signs” for several years, but it is more pronounced now. Within 5 mins she has forgotten what you have said, especially if it is detailed, has to be reminded over and over again, and is learning to write things down. The other day she said to me – after having to repeat myself several times – “I am beginning to forget things.” She has been “beginning” to forget for years now, but is only now just noticing the forgetting – or let’s say – is now accepting and admitting it. I think she’s known for a while, but could hide it. Well, she *thought* she could, but the rest of us knew. But she can’t hide it from herself anymore. And gets frustrated when we pick up on it, and doesn’t like being questioned in order to seek clarity.

In many ways her strong-willed, head strong personality has changed. That’s what personalities do, they change and in some cases dissolve… She seems more “simple” now – not asserting her power, her will, her motherly authority, her need to control; instead getting lost in herself, and lost in simple things, in simpleness. And I wonder if “she” is getting lost. I’m sure the fact that she can’t see well, or hear well has only added to her “simpleness.” And I wonder if this is such a bad thing – this simple mindedness that allows us to come out from hiding – and just be… But I also wonder to myself if one loses the awareness that we are more than our self, our personhood, (if one has ever realized that, if you know what I mean). And if we do lose that sense of inner Beingness - what then...

In some ways she is easier to be around because there are fewer “personality struggles”, as if this simple mindedness has allowed the veil of personality to drop somewhat – but not by volition. I see her vulnerability and fragility of mind and body – and I soften. I feel compassion for her, and yet frustration arises because her cognitive abilities and comprehension are slipping. She is less and less able to understand. She gets information wrong, and therefore passes on incorrect information, which tends to get everybody else’s wires crossed.

I feel compassion as well as anger and irritation when she can’t “get it”, or gets confused, or can’t get the words out. On the one hand I want to try to explain things to her so she can understand, and be understood, but realize it doesn’t do any good. She is incapable of understanding complexity, and her mind forgets. Her brain isn’t working like it used to. I understand that but it is hard to experience. Neither is mine for that matter. I am losing my words… I can describe what the word I’m groping for does, but sometimes just can’t come up with the word, which boggles my mind even more. How could I *remember* how to describe what a word does, but *forget* the word…. Strange brain… It is disconcerting to lose the ability to articulate… So we laugh about the fact that we are both losing our words, both forgetting. But the reality of it is, well, scary - this untimely “simple-mindedness” that creeps in over time as we age.

In Mom’s simple-mindedness I notice that she relies on things being as they always have been, how things used to be, on things being consistent, reliable, and gets confused when they are not. Don’t we all! And yet, she seems adaptable as well – able to move with life as it is, through her simpleness. Not a bad quality actually. Isn’t that what I’ve been trying to do all these years on a “spiritual path” – find the simpleness and simplicity of just living – just being. But I am *aware* that this is what I’ve been doing. And I know it’s not really the same. When the brain-mind starts to go it’s really a forced simpleness through a loss of connection somewhere in the brain, which means *her* reality of things doesn’t always coincide with actual reality. Well, neither does mine actually! :) And I don’t see that as “bad” either! :) It’s just what’s happening now…

My sister, you remember - the prickly personality, lives with her, and is having a hard time with Mom’s simple-mindedness. Her own brain being short-circuited through years of drug abuse and alcohol - is also forgetting; although insists her memory is accurate, which creates unnecessary conflict. She cannot adjust to my mother’s growing simpleness, and is short-fused. Mom is no longer able to be who she was, or the image of who we want her to be – the “mother.” That role is dropping as well. My mother was never really “mothering” in the sense of being the nurturer, the encourager, the emotional supporter. There really wasn’t much of a “heart connection.” The baggage and the woundings from all that are still there of course. But it’s really time to put that baggage down. In fact I think I already have, although I don’t remember when. It must have slipped out of my hands when I wasn’t looking. I realize there is no point in holding onto the baggage and trying to hold her accountable for old wounds that she can now neither understand nor do anything about. The time for discussion and trying to get her to understand, without creating more wounds, has passed. There is only what is…

I see that more and more. And I see that I am going to have to meet her in her simpleness - *her* reality – to accept her simple-mindedness – to allow her to simply be the way she is, without struggling against it, without closing my heart… I’m sure that will be a challenge for all of us - as we all slip down that rabbit hole of “simple-mindedness” together…