Living with purpose despite or because of health challenges: Sometimes it takes a while (Part 2)
Courtesy of Paper Lemon Photography
Purpose Person: Dana
In her guide to cultivating one’s inner monk and artist, Christine Valters Paintner observes the seasonality of our days, weeks, and/or years and suggests that predictable patterns influence the ebb and flow of our creative lives. She posits that dried up periods of fallow, flatness, and dysfocus align with the “work” of Winter. That is, instead of representing our failure and unpardonable sloth, our Winter work is to rest, repair, and prepare for the germination of Spring that is silently underway. She advises us to recast our creative ups and downs as normal rhythms of life and to embrace the work of each season rather than force ourselves to be otherwise.
I think this is also true for the ebb and flow of our purpose-directed lives.
I hope you met my best friend, Dana, in Part 1 of this blog post. If so, you’ll remember that she lives a robust life even as she’s had to re-find her mojo after disability and as she deals with a chronic health condition (polycystic kidney disease [PKD]). In Part 2 of our conversation (below), Dana provides her take on coming to grips with one’s limitations, embracing her seasons, and moving forward with a different cadence.
How about you? How might you embrace the season you are in related to purpose in life?
Onward!
Source: Paintner CV (2011). The Artist’s Rule. Sorin Books, Notre Dame, Indiana.
Reflections from a Purpose Person: Dana (continued)
Mary: I’m wondering if you would speak to how long it took to turn the corner - to move from the upending of it all to starting to move forward.
Dana: This involved quite a learning curve during the first five years following my diagnosis. I bounced out of despair and went overboard showing myself and the world that I was a force to be reckoned with. I taught full-time, attended graduate school, parented, entertained to rival Martha Stewart, and because my husband traveled a lot, helped his aging father and my own parents with more verve than they needed or wanted, I’m sure! The more tired I felt, the faster I moved. I dazzled myself with footwork as I ran from spinning plate to spinning plate. My objective was to show my daughter that even if she did inherit PKD, it would not stop her, but I was having trouble sustaining my life.
As the book title states so aptly, The Body Keeps the Score (by Bessel van der Kolk M.D.), I ended up with mononucleosis that led to Guillain Barre, and a catastrophic system malfunction that paralyzed me from the neck down. In the months I spent recovering, I had lots of time to ponder how I’d gotten onto an accelerating treadmill that I couldn’t get off of until I crashed. I never want to do that to myself again and made a vow to live each day in balance and model moderation to my daughter. I didn’t want her to think that depletion and productivity are synonymous.
Mary: This is really important, Dana. What you describe here is sort of a frenzied sense of purpose that was fundamentally about proving something rather than a joyful deployment of who we are to contribute. Tell us a bit more about how you’ve pivoted. How have you transformed your approach to managing PKD?
Dana: This is one of the most challenging parts of a chronic condition, and for me it’s especially taxing during bouts of pain. Pain causes fatigue which quickly spirals into fear. Fatigue and anxiety chip away at my sense of perspective and resilience.
Because pain is as individual as our fingerprints, I’m uncomfortable offering formulas to fellow sufferers, but I can share some tactics I’ve found to be helpful when my spirit is flagging and my endorphins need a kickstart.
· I get as comfortable as I can and quiet my brain. Starting with childhood, I revisit each decade, remembering and savoring only the wonderful people and fun experiences I’ve enjoyed. Gratitude inevitably abounds.
· I spend time reading books and listening to podcasts created by people who live, in stroke survivor Katherine Wolf’s words, good, hard journeys. Katherine, Joni Erickson Tada, Kate Bowler, and Frank Bruni are a few of many authors who have reconstructed their lives after unthinkably tough medical diagnoses. Their hard-earned, practical wisdom enriches me.
· I have an exceedingly supportive husband and family, and while they are there for me in every way, I don’t want to consume all of their energies so they have nothing left for their own stories. I’ve been blessed with a friend, and you know her well, Mary. She has walked down countless jagged trails with me and is a balm of healing in those difficult, sacred spaces.
· Sharing the support that I’ve received with fellow travelers I meet on the path of pain keeps me moving forward. I don’t have to look far to see people who need encouragement. Some days it might not be realistic for me to send a homemade turkey dinner or even meet for coffee but I can call, jot a note, or send a gift card. Other days I might throw a leash on my dog and plunk down in a comfy chair on the college campus near my home. Scout is a big draw for students, and while they pet her we chat about their hometowns, their families, their burdens. Their fresh-faced energy and open hearts invigorate me.
I give myself lots of kudos for striving to live in the minute, hour and day. There are no accolades or award ceremonies for those who hone this counter-culture skill, but in my mind people who master the rhythm of daily focus deserve gold medals.
What I’m attempting to say is that THIS daily focus, which is all anybody has anyway, might be the true definition of moving forward.
Mary: Your experiences and life lessons speak to all of us, Dana. The reality of our finitude and the sufficiency of the present moment applies to everyone and our aspirations related to purpose in daily life, defined as intentional use of our time and energy in ways that align with our inner Compass in the moments that compose a day. Thank you and blessings, Dear One.