Anatomy of a Spiritual Illness (Part 2 of 5)

Erie Insurance - Anatomy of a Spiritual Illness (Part 2 of 5)

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Whoa. This was not what I wanted to hear. Now I was clear that death was only moments away! The fear escalated out of control for a moment, but then, suddenly, I felt ten times more peaceful than I had ever felt in my life. I felt as if I was beyond doubt floating over the table. It was such a serene feeling that, to this day, I cannot find words to enumerate it.

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I had experienced something close to this only one other time, when I was eighteen, and foolish adequate to swim too far out into Lake Erie with some friends just as a thunderstorm was approaching. All the way out, I made sure that I could touch bottom, because I was never a good swimmer; swimming to me was never fun, only survival!

On the way back in, I swiftly became tired and decided to walk the rest of the way, but there was no bottom! Sure enough, the wind must have pushed us over a deep hole in the lake, and with the addition turbulence and high waves, I was in trouble.

I frantically tried swimming some more, but I had nothing left, so I desperately attempted to touch bottom again. This time, I went a long way under, and when no bottom was to be found, I barely made it to the face again. Exhausted, and not able to swim further, I tried to touch bottom for the third time, but there was no bottom. This was it; I had zero compel left to fight my way again to the surface. I gave up.

The occasion I surrendered and knew that I was dying, the most profound peacefulness enveloped me. It was like warm arms. Then, suddenly, the warm arms were grabbing my hair! My friend, Glenn Kline, who had been swimming beside me and saw me struggling, was salvage my life.

He towed me all the way to shore, where I instantly vomited up Lake Erie water for two hours! Glenn, an exceptionally strong swimmer, just laughed and said that I should learn how to swim. I guess you never forget the name of a man who saved your life.

Meanwhile, at San Francisco General, after I "floated" back down to my gurney, all that I had ever heard about after death experiences were running straight through my head. Eventually, a physician arrived and checked me out, admitting that he had no idea what was going on, and that only a battery of tests might conclude the problem. He insisted that my situation was not immediately life threatening, and that my heart was strong but confused concerning the signals it was getting. He asked if I had insurance, which of procedure I didn't, and then sent me on my way.

A week went by and the situation wasn't improving; I could barely get around. I tried to get into some free clinics in the Haight-Ashbury, but the wait was too long and I finally gave up. The occasion I tried to do anything, my heart would go crazy and my blood pressure would soar.

Janet and I were up against it again, and with less than a thousand dollars in our pockets, we decided to head for Boulder, Colorado -- a place that was to destined to become our refuge between adventures.

No matter where we found ourselves, an occasion seemed to exist for discovery. Adverse situations, of course, enhanced these opportunities, forcing us to learn something about ourselves that we didn't know before. What exactly was an adverse situation? maybe an adverse situation was something opposed to what we wanted, but did we beyond doubt know what was good for us? maybe no situation is adverse.

I was gradually realizing that this road to enlightenment must be traveled as a limber tree gracefully bows to the wind; because stiff ones break, and my cunning logic, that I had relied upon so heavily in the past, was only delaying progress, but meditation was helping.

I wondered; wouldn't my heart have to break at some point? It seemed so rigid. Mustn't it painfully break open like a husk so that the seed inside can grow? Did I have any option but to accept the pain, disappointment, and emptiness of my situation until that day when wisdom would arise? And when that day finally came, would my fleeting, pathetic attempts to leave give way to unconditional love, breaking my heart open forever? What else could I do now?

Janet and I set ourselves up in a small efficiency apartment that about broke us, and while I remained bedridden, Janet bussed colse to town as a home health aide to make ends meet. We couldn't afford a car, all of our money initially went toward a deposit and rent for the apartment, and then we had to scrimp and save to buy some food and see doctors.

It was a difficult duration for Janet, with her working so hard and my many months of illness. I couldn't stand up or even have uncomplicated conversations, because all was too intense . . . Magnified in some strange way. My heart would stop with the slightest exertion. One day, Janet surprised me with a present, a small plant that became a treasured friend. Because my compel was gone -- physically, emotionally and psychologically -- all that I could do was lie in bed and watch the exiguous plant in the angle grow -- one leaf at a time.

Are life's disappointments related to expectations? I dreamed about how it should be -- and when it wasn't, my sense of fairness in some strange way seemed violated. What would it be like to have no expectations? Dull? maybe boring? Maybe I enjoyed my roller coaster trip of vicissitudes, and subconsciously caused them myself just for the ride. But what happens when the excitement stops? I was about to find out.

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