“To be or not to be, that is the question.”  Hamlet, Shakespeare.

For several months now I have experienced with growing alarm, the deterioration of my health in ways that I do not recognize as my own….. Dependent edema, bone pain, muscle pain, now yielding to severe circulatory problems…. Hands always cold, now knuckles gone purple….. Now shortness of breath, a heart that’s fluttering with tachycardia and arythmia…. And the doctors are trying to test it out, sleuth it out to find out just where the problem lies.

I am trying to be patient and take care of myself, following directions, undergoing tests, taking medication and keeping in touch with my sister.  Were it not for her I would not be in the US and covered by the best medical insurance money can buy…. But the real deal is, as I live through my days…. What kind of heart attack am I going to have?  Will it be mild, severe, or am I going to have a stroke?

Am I getting used up here before my time?
The just cause needs live ones….. and life is more than the cause.  Or is it?  

While trying to eat right, sleep right, reduce smoking, (down to 10 mild cigarettes per day) limit caffeine (down to just 2 cups), exercise (walk about 3 miles a day) and meditate to lower stress.  (My FBC Café friends will be amazed to discover that in real life I have not had a drink in years…. Which is why I get so misty over Irish Mist!)  I am also trying to keep up with my newspaper reading, writing, letters to my representatives, working on projects, and make an effort to keep bills paid.  

But my sister, and my loved ones, my doctors are looking at another reality…. What if there were no me here to worry about?  What does it matter how many articles I wrote, how many letters I sent out, how much research I did, or how many demonstrations I attend?.  The cause needs live ones….. and life is more than the cause.  Or is it?  What am I living for?  What do I believe in?  Where have I invested my time, energy, talents and resources?

It’s not a case of burn-out as spiritually and mentally I’m fighting fit.

My primary care physician and my specialist and I are all looking at the organic and psychological causes of my condition (undiagnosed illness) that is serious enough… the warning signs are for some kind of heart attack.  

On the psychological side the causes are anxiety…. What am I so anxious about?  US foreign policy, the war on Iraq, and our “Constitutional Crisis.”  Beyond that, or included in that has to be the Civil Rights Movement of our time – immigration, amnesty for illegal immigrants and a decent wage for all.  Is there anything else keeping me up nights?  Well, yeah, Katrina, and the plight of the homeless and nearly homeless….. and then there are the elders…. The retirees, the aged, and the children.  Anything else?  Well I’m not too looking well.  Not as well as I used to.  I’m just not well.

So I’m not performing as well as I used to.  Not bouncing back as I did in my days of robust health and aerobic fitness.  Not able to get as much done in a day as I used to.  When was the last time I was well?  When was the first sign of illness?  When did the balance tip out of my favor?  When, if ever, will I be well again, and how am I going to get there?  Is this the decline into sickness, old age and death?  And if it is, why do I feel so bloody calm about it?

While not sleeping last night and worrying about my next series of health-related appointments, (not feeling well enough to go to the doctor is pretty stupid, eh what?,) I came across this story in a book I’m reading called “A Life In Balance”

I’ll paraphrase the full passage, and hope that you can see where I’m at here:

    During the onset of the Korean War, a young student of Buddhism wanted to gain entry from Japan into Korea to study with his Buddhist master.  His travel visa was denied by the agent, on the basis that the war had just broken out.  The young man walked away frustrated and despondent and sat on a bench in the passport office.

    “He realized at that moment, there was not only a war stirring in Korea, but also another raging inside himself.  Recognizing that his internal conflict had the potential to erupt and create conflict in the world around him, he wondered what to do.”

    Becoming still and focussed, breathing mindfully, the young man took out a thermos of tea.  He slowly opened the flask, poured the tea, paying reverent attention to the look, smell taste and experience of drinking tea.  He took out brush and paper and wrote a haiku.

    He walked to the customs agent and gave him the haiku.  The customs agent read the short poem which brought tears to his eyes, then smiled, then bowed deeply and respectfully.  He picked up the young man’s passport and stamped it for passage to Korea.

The haiku read:

Drinking a cup of tea, I stopped the war.


I am sitting peacefully at my computer.  The rain is coming down hitting the broad leaves outside my window, and hitting the metal of the air-conditioner my sister left for me to use in the summer.  A bowl of black beans with a little salsa is my lunch.  If I am mindful of anything today it is that I will and pray for all of us to have peace in our goings and comings, and to savor our moments spent in this beautiful world, to glory in the beauty of our loved ones, and work patiently in the vineyard of our common community, in our common cause:

¡Sí, Se Puede!  
Peace in our time.


see:  zen telegrams