The Body is Subject to Aging, Disease, and Death - Part 2
When I got a follow-up test 18 months later, my condition had further deteriorated, much to my shock. That second diagnosis brought up even more intense feelings of fear and anxiety since I thought I had identified and removed the source of my worsening condition: the Protein Pump Inhibitors that I was taking to treat my acid reflux.
Having to work with osteoporosis has been a profound training in equanimity. Equanimity is a turning towards the truth of our present experience neither with apathy nor with resignation, but with a sense of clarity and quiet acceptance: “This is how things are right now.” To do so requires courage. The truth is that most of us prefer to live in our delusions because it’s a way to avoid the pain that’s both present in this moment and is often the fuel for our own growth and awakening.
What allows us to cultivate a greater sense of equanimity is increasing levels of insight into impermanence: the truth that everything is always changing. In our meditation practice, we’re training the mind to see the truth of this on a moment to moment basis, starting at the level of the body and sensory experience. We see that emotions and thoughts come and go. Everything is constantly arising and passing away.
As we validate the truth of impermanence through our own direct experience our faith in the wisdom of impermanence grows.
When we’re caught in a challenging situation, it’s easier to recognize that this too shall pass (the catch is that we must also be mindful of this truth even when circumstances are pleasant, or else we’ll fall deeper into attachment and more suffering when things inevitably change).
Consistently we’re more aware that good news will change. Bad news will also change. Maybe it will conform more to our preferences. Maybe it will confirm less.
It’s recognizing that life is like this: it’s uncertain. There is a sense of freedom and peace that arises from within when we let go of our attempts to constantly control our experience.
Not only are the actions of others outside of our control, even the health of our own bodies is largely outside of our control. We can’t stop the fact that this body is going to grow old, get sick, and die.
Yet, clearly there are things we can and should do to improve our physical health. So equanimity is not an invitation to fatalism or apathy. It’s very important to emphasize this point. To be in the world requires us to act and the goal is that we learn to act, rather than to react, with more wisdom and compassion.
In any given moment, there are so many variables that allow for circumstances to arise and pass away; our contributions, in the grand scheme of things, are small. But we do what we can, with the right effort but also with the right view, which includes not only noticing impermanence but acting with humility for the limited impact that we have, even on our own health.
Wisdom affords us this larger perspective, and allows us to act without attachment to the outcome of our actions. Compassion motivates us to do so for the benefit of others as well as for ourselves.
We can do a number of things to optimize for physical health, such as nutrition, exercise, avoiding bad habits like smoking or excessive alcohol use, cultivating strong social relationships--but at the end of the day, none of these things can offer some sort of guarantee from the vulnerability of this life.
Fundamentally, this life is impermanent and vulnerable, for all of us.
In the succeeding months since that second test, I adopted a very proactive strategy to improve my bone density. I wanted to avoid going on prescription drugs unless it was absolutely necessary and I didn’t feel that I was there quite yet. Instead, I opted for an alternative plan of supplementation with more vitamins and minerals, regular weight-bearing exercise, and stem cell therapy. I was fortunate to work with excellent doctors as well, and I was careful to select ones that chose a more holistic and regenerative approach to medicine, rather than focusing on just treating the symptoms, which I felt was the approach to health care that had led to this situation.
Just recently, I got my bone density checked again, twenty months after that second test set me into a downward mental spiral for weeks and months afterward. This time, I was preparing myself for whatever happened, including the very real possibility that my situation was going to get worse. As the machine was scanning across my body to assess my bone density I practiced mindfulness of emotions by noting what I was feeling in that moment, then I tried to tune into where in the body I was feeling those emotions. When the emotions felt strong I offered compassion towards them.
When I got the results back, to my very pleasant surprise, my bone density had actually improved. It’s now slightly better than the results of my first test, and significantly better than my previous one. There’s a long way to go in terms of building my bone density back up to a point that’s closer to the median level for someone my age, but most importantly things are moving in the right trajectory.
Throughout this journey I have learned so many things that have been of my benefit to my physical health. In some ways I feel that the silver lining of this diagnosis is that I’m now living healthier than ever. The most profound of all of the changes though have been not in the body, but in the mind, including how the mind is relating to the body.
In essence: I’ve learned to let go more. I have a stronger sense of equanimity: neither apathy nor paranoia, but a greater sense of acceptance that “this is how things are right now,” knowing that “this too will change.”
We must do what we can to take care of our bodies, but ultimately we must act without attachment to the outcome of our actions, at least if we want to avoid the emotional roller coaster that comes from being identified with our bodies.
Just as it’s important to train the body for physical health, it’s also essential to train the mind for our mental health.
Everything that we experience is happening within consciousness so it’s incredibly important to tend to the quality of our consciousness. Zen offers us the metaphor of polishing the mirror. As we train the heart-mind to see more clearly there’s an inner radiance that starts to shine through more brightly. We begin to see that all of the things for which we were searching: inner peace, joy, acceptance, freedom, were always and already present.