Categories: Featured Article
Today Is A Beautiful Day
By: Linda Jones
Bennettsville, South Carolina
The clock reads 3:16 a.m. on January 1st. I lie awake with so many thoughts running through my mind. Be present. Be present. Being present is the thought that keeps popping up the most. I have to remain in the present.
Last week, as 2014 was winding to a close, I was reflecting on the lives and deaths of my parents. Both of their bodies ceased to exist at the young ages of 68. My mother’s life was changed forever at age 62 when she was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. Surgery, followed by aggressive chemotherapy, drove the cancer from her body but also destroyed her kidneys. Dialysis kept her alive for six more years. As dialysis drained her body of toxins, salts and excess fluids that her kidneys could no longer filter, she suffered greatly with such grace and courage. While dialysis was sustaining her life, it was also destroying the remaining organs in her body.
The healthy part of my mom’s life ended when she was 62. Having reached this age myself this year, I wondered if I would have the same grace and courage that she exhibited if I were diagnosed with the same disease. We speak of balance so often when we cite the many benefits of T’ai Chi Chih. Those who have practiced TCC for a long time realize that the practice isn’t just helping you keep your balance physically as you yin and yang. But that is the kind of balance that first comes to mind. That is the kind of balance we promise new recruits to TCC.
Recently I started wobbling and losing my balance as I practiced. I started falling down for no apparent reason. I would just suddenly be on the floor. My body was covered with bruises. Suddenly I was having difficulty talking. My mind knew exactly what I wanted to say, but the words just wouldn’t come out. My mind would also instruct a body part to move, but the body would not follow through.
Due to chronic physical challenges, I am on a regimen of numerous medications. At times I would envision each drug as a little soldier inside my stomach battling the symptoms of my physical problems, but also battling one another. Convinced that the numerous medications were causing the problem, my doctor and I experimented with the timing and dosage of the medications.
Relief set in when the aphasia almost disappeared and I was no longer constantly falling down. So, during the last few days of 2014, I began making plans to start teaching TCC early in 2015.
Early in the morning on New Year’s Eve, plans for classes were dancing through my mind as I was lying on a table in a hospital having a CT scan of my brain. The scan went quickly, and afterwards I went food shopping and out to lunch. I was so happy to be out walking without falling and talking a mile a minute clearly. I’d already forgotten the morning test. I was looking forward to teaching TCC, visiting New Jersey in February when I would take the Reiki II course, attending the Santa Barbara TCC retreats in March, auditing the TCC teacher training in Aston in April, leaving for Europe a few days later to travel for over a month, attending the TCC conference in early August and attending Antonia’s Aston retreat in August where I would celebrate my 63rd birthday. Life was beautiful. 2015 was going to be a wonderful year.
Then the phone rang. Global cerebral atrophy.
More tests will be scheduled to determine the exact cause. The cause will best determine how much longer I will live and to estimate approximately when I will begin exhibiting substantial dementia. At that moment, the word and thought of impermanence popped into my head like a flashing neon sign.
Now, more than ever, I must be present as much as possible to experience and enjoy every second that I have left. To make new memories and friends that I will soon forget as dementia sets in.
Even as I write this, though, my mind strays to the future. Will I forget the form of TCC? How long will I continue to recognize the members of my TCC family? There are no answers to these questions, and I must put them to rest and bring myself back to the present. Be present. Be present.
Today, the first day of 2015, is going to be a beautiful day.
Topics: Balance and Fall Prevention, Grief and Loss, Letting Go, Personal Stories, Present Moment, South Carolina
Originally appeared in: February 2015
