I woke up from surgery surrounded by love. It was August 15, 2012 and my Tibetan lama --
an elder in his late 70’s -- had gone way out his way to be there throughout my
surgery and when I awoke. Other friends
surrounded my bed, some like hallucinations, because I had no idea they would
be present that day.
What a different experience it would have been if I were a
private person in a long-term relationship with one person, quietly coming to
in my hospital bed! No hurried last
minute “likes” on Facebook to the many supportive messages the night before
surgery. No Tibetan holy men rolling
their malas (rosaries) with mantras and prayers on my behalf.
At this specific juncture of my life, I’m accustomed to
being married to a community. For the
past three and a half years, ending about June, I was in a cloistered group
meditation retreat with a group of people.
We came to know all each other’s strengths and weaknesses, our sensitive
areas and hidden heroic qualities.
So, it was not so
strange to be waking, drowsy from Morphine, in a group… my snoring (and who
knows what all) exposed to the community that held and supported me.
Since then, three people from my retreat have lived with me
(at various times) in my half-unpacked house while I recuperate. They move this heavy MacBook Pro from my bed
to the couch and back again at my whim. They
feed the feral cat, wash y dishes, and take out the trash. Yesterday, two of A.dz.om Rinpoche’s students
came by in the morning and walked with me a few blocks, and listened to me
rattle on. Then, later, two of Lama
Tharchin Rinpoche’s students came by and did tsog – in important group practice
for us – while I mumbled along the best I could in between some pangs of pain.
Normally, I like a lot of alone time to practice. But in this time of recovery I don’t have the
attention span for formal practice, and I appreciate the opposite—distraction. In the middle of the night, my “attendant”
friend asleep, it’s just me and my snarling abdomen in boring dialogue.
