That’s where I’m at now. You know the stages of mourning when somebody dies? Maybe not.
Well, I was a nurse at the Royal Melbourne Hospital and part of our training was the process of mourning and the approach by Elisabeth Kubler Ross. She talks about the five stages of grief. It was the early 1970s and I feel intensely close to her and her teachings. I accompanied one patient to the end and then took care of her family in those first moments of grief. I knew that many of my fellow young colleagues were overwhelmed, uncertain and uncomfortable in such situations. I invited her husband to sit down and have a drink and sat with him for a while. It was before I joined the Unification Church, but I just knew that this life did not end with the expiration of the physical body.
I washed her afterwards and was shocked at how much weight she had lost those last few weeks and days. I saw the bruising collecting on the surface of the skin closest to the mat. It was gravity working now. No more heart pumping blood. Sad, yes. Normal. Yes. I knew it was okay for me to work in this area. I had no need to distance myself from the survivors for fear of my own insecurity, or fear of the unknown. I knew. I know.
Now. What’s different? This grief is not for a lost life, well, not a physical life. I’ve been working in a most exciting modern area of life. That life has come to an end.
Now I’m enjoying the benefits of the Austria social security system and attending a three week “Kur”. I really want to know whether I can deny my knee operation any longer.
Just had the meeting with the psychotherapist. Very uplifting. I told her I am an idealist. She finished with saying she is happy to have met an idealist. She encouraged me to maintain my mindfulness. She told me we have to find another terminology for me.
I am not a pensioner. Denial is a phase. It is not an event. Retirement is a process. I am on life holiday. We talked in English and in German.
I watched the partial eclipse of the moon. My phone camera is not as great as I thought. Or, I still do not know how to coax the best results from it. The night setting appeared to be a time exposure. I don’t have a tripod.
Mindfulness in gymnastic training. The psychotherapist just followed me up the stairs and said she admires my strong will. I’m walking with a cup of tea after the gymnastics, up the stairs.
I have determined to walk up and down the stairs, despite the lift. When I first came I felt so tired and sore. I still feel sore. I still feel tired. But somehow my legs are not quite as heavy as they were. Is it the exercise or is it the Antistax? I don’t care. I just want to get better.
I am so grateful for this time here. I lie down after therapy and after lunch. I am tired from just walking up the stairs. I “treat myself” to the rest. It’s okay to rest. I don’t have to go back to the office. I can go for a swim, or take the laptop downstairs to check my emails. Or I could go outside and take a walk. My legs are still sore. I’m not pushing it. It’s okay. Yesterday morning and this morning again, after weighing myself I went outside and walked around the building to the other entrance near the dining room.
First week nearly over. New guests arrived today. Have to go down to the lobby for the internet connection.
Body Mind and Spirit
Food for thought.
I have to consider the concept of time and life, mission and purpose.
Here on the kur, my life is governed by meal times and mostly, therapy appointments.
The pool is the time of reflection, The pool is a great meditation experience even after nine at night. Very soon I am alone. I focus on walking in the water as the trainer suggested, rolling the foot from the heels over the balls of the feet to the toes. This becomes almost a dance in the water. As I roll to the toes it’s a flowing spring jump and I have to think of a ballerina. Then I also do the backwards walking and sideways in each direction. Consciously stepping, one foot after the other, living in the present. Calming my thoughts.
I found an interesting book while waiting for my electro therapy – “interferanz” they call it here. The book was about travelling in the fifties, written by an actress. Her first trip was to Iceland and I had to think of Timi, planning his trip to Iceland this summer.
I spend the time in the morning writing what I thought would become my blog. Then I extend into the memoir mode, sharing all sorts of other things which I may not be ready to publish right now.
This Kur was to be the time of personal development, of working through a couple of books. Yet when I focus on those things I create my own new stress. So I’m working on mindfulness, living in the present, not stressing. Of course, this three weeks is my transition into my new life.