Moment of Mind Summer 2023

Moment of Mind

Hello all,

I’ve been noticing how sometimes change seems obvious, and other times not so. 

For example aging is happening every second of every day. Your brain (and that science is still evolving, see here for example), lenses, and gametes cells are the same ones as when your body was born (see here). All the other cells in the body die and replace themselves on repeat for the entire life course – sometimes multiple times a week. 

How many of us notice “oh all my skin is brand new, it hasn’t been here my entire life”?  Yeah, me neither.

Bigger changes though – when we lose an entire fingernail, when we develop a chronic condition or can’t do something anymore, that’s obvious.

It’s also obvious when we *can* do something after a period of not, when some new change brings new understanding, or a shift in perception. 

This past month I’ve been moving around the world sometimes with astonishment and wonder at one of these changes. For a week or so I kept repeating to my partner “I can lift heavy things.” Sometimes I say it quietly. Sometimes I texted it with several “!!!’s” Sometimes it’s just matter of fact. The other day I pulled my bike up and down the basement. It’s not light. He offered to do it for me, given that for months lifting heavy things was off limits. I refused because…I can lift the heavy things. 

My meditation teacher would often tell us to use death as an advisor. That statement has a lot to it. It’s about impermance – that everything is changing at all times. It’s about the inevitability of death – it will happen for all. And it’s about presence – that what we have is whatever is happening now. 

Using death as an advisor can shape what we spend time doing, how we spend money, who we stay connected with, and how much we practice savoring what arises. It’s a reminder that this magical, rare, existence can end at any moment.

I know that I won’t always be able to lift heavy things. When that happens the savoring will come through different avenues.

I know that at some point the core me of conscious, aware aliveness will depart this physical body and there will be no more emotions, no more thoughts, no more experiences. 

So why not relish these?

A challenge for the relishing is the conditioning we’ve absorbed in believing we should seek only some types of feeling states. That all the others have to suffered through or fought against until they pass. And even though they do pass, because change is inevitable, the mind will focus so intently on them it will completely miss the moments during teeth brushing that are not anxiety, fear, or pain-tinged (as an example).

This spring I chose to get arm surgery in order to have a steel plate and 8 screws removed from the radius in my right arm. I broke my arm in my late 20s doing a hip throw incorrectly in aikido. Aikido is a defensive art, there’s no punching or kicking which means it’s fairly rare to have a major injury like that. Unless you’re me. Overachiever!!

One thing I didn’t know in my late 20s is that the hospital you go to may or may not be part of your insurance network (does adulting have thresholds or hazing rituals? I think this lesson was one of those). When the ambulance driver asked me what hospital I wanted to go to I just shrugged, so they went to the closest one. I ended up with a $15,000 medical bill which took me awhile to pay off (I was still working on my undergrad loans at the time). Fear of surgery, of another bill, of not using my arm, and consistently working a full time, demanding job with a lot at stake kept me from getting the plate and screws removed. I didn’t have the funds, the time, or resources of support to help take care of me until very recently. Or at least I didn’t believe I did. 

In the last handful of years I had started avoiding doing things I loved because my arm hurt when I lifted heavy things or used it in specific ways (I stopped parkor because of how searing the pain could be). It hurt in the fall and winter when the weather temperatures and humidity would fluctuate. It also twinged when I simply flipped my hand over because the muscles moved across the metal plate and I could feel it. Although I couldn’t call this chronic pain, it was consistently episodic and helped me understand empathize with physical limitations as my middle ages continue to evolve.

Since my finances unexpectedly changed last year I suddenly had the money to cover my insurance deductible. There was a gap between consulting projects and my ferritin levels were at a point that I wasn’t exhausted all the time. So I made an appointment to talk with a surgeon. She could take the plates and screws out, it wasn’t too late she said. I had “hardware sensitivity”. Given that I have some type of sensitivity with just about everything, I figured that tracked.

I felt fear and a healthy dose of paranoia before and after the surgery. I had “swiss cheese arm” as indicated in the image above. If I lifted anything heavier than say a spoon I could re-break my arm and have to start over. This was NOT the desired outcome.

One habit I have around experiencing fear and anxiety is to turn to research to see if more information helps address it. Sometimes it does. Sometimes it makes things worse. 

I learned that if I exercised a bunch beforehand I could increase some of the growth hormone in my body that helps it repair injuries (another reason movement is so important). I researched vitamins to take (I am still taking these), food to eat (I had fish congee nearly daily for lunch for the first week as part of a high protein diet with a side of pea leaves for the vitamin c), and did a lot of not lifting things. I continue to take a variety of supplements that middle aged bodies appreciate.

So I had the surgery. And then I sat around and moped a lot. I forgot the death as an advisor bit through the haze of crankiness.

I was also very aware of the level of privilege and luck that allowed me to work at home, not ride a bus or light rail, and have someone make or bring me food beyond what I could assemble on my own (thank you to all the friends who contributed whether it was a kind text message or a snack). I do not take any of it for granted. It was its own awe and appreciation experience.

And I also noticed in this three month hiatus of not lifting heavy things how much my mind had built beliefs about what was and wasn’t possible based on bodily limits. 

Which brings me back to noticing change. 

What I’m inviting you to explore this week is where something you cannot do anymore influences the mind to believe other scenarios are also in that category…and so you don’t do them. 

I’m inviting you to start inquiring into if the belief if “I can’t do it” is really true. 

It might not be.

What don’t you do one tiny piece, step, or few seconds of whatever the mind has said is in the ‘can not do’ category?

I invite you to notice what reasons the mind has for these ‘do not do’ situations and inquire a bit more deeply into those as well.

I’d love to hear what you notice,

much love,

Tia

Love for Your Inner Science Activist Nerd

Part of why there’s been a long time since my last newsletter beyond the healing arm bone is that I’ve not read very many books or articles that felt recommend-worthy for you dear reader.  

I just finished another one like this that, while intriguing, had enough gaps in it (like perimenopausal and menopausal women) that it’s not featured here. Much of the source research material was solid though soI’ll be back with some new articles soon. 

In the meantime, I’ve been taking a workshop this week on geographic information systems for educators and feeling the excitement of new learning. Fun. With. Maps.

For the summer edition of this newsletter I thought I’d share a few powerful storymaps you can explore at your leisure. Embedded as links below for your clicking fun.

Get Your Park Groove On

I don’t know if rivers count as “parks”, so this month’s park groove may not fit the rest. And that’s okay because we love uniqueness. The Willamette River narrows, a space where the river narrows between the main channel and a place called Goat Island, is a gorgeous spot to swim, paddle, kayak or be towed on a floatie. It’s about 2 miles down to the end of goat rock from nearby Willamette Park in West Linn, Oregon and then the 2 miles back. Because the river volume affects how high the water is above the rocks and old decaying logs along the banks of the river, the best time to go is early to mid summer. This is after the intense rush of the spring rains and before the very low water levels of September. Willamette Park is located on the west bank of the Willamette River, south of Portland, off exit 6 (10th street) from I 205. The park has ball fields, a splash pad, green spaces, fields, and spots to visit the river and swim. It’s where the Tualatin River flows into the Willamette on its way to the mighty Columbia River downstream.The video below is from a late spring trip in a kayak from 2020 with a great friend. We appreciated drifting and listening to the bird song.

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