This year the word resurrection has a
different meaning. Though I tend to view Catholicism cynically, I am still
deeply moved and influenced by my parochial upbringing. Having failed to fully live up to my
Lenten practice does not necessarily negate the significance of the
meaning of resurrection in my life. In Jungian terms, I view resurrection
symbolically and spiritually. Resurrection is defined as, “rising from the dead
or rising from decay: revival”. What has been revived? Here is this season’s resurrection
list and a little about the people who have made my revival possible:
· First
on my list is the resurrection of my eyesight. Thank you, Dr. R. When I saw him
last week I told him no person had a greater impact on my health this year.
Having 20/20 vision has been nothing short of a miracle. To see the fullness of
color, subtle visual detail, and have such sharp clarity has altered
everything. When he told me I would be seeing perfectly again within hours after
surgery, I thought it was a surgeon’s boast. Now I realize how exceptional this
man’s skills are. I credit him with giving me a whole new outlook-literally.
· Second
on my list is the resurrection of intimacy. Thank you, James. It took ten
years, a man of persistence, and a number of incredibly funny texts and emails
for me to finally give in. His disarming
ways and tenderness with me made me an amnesiac to my obstacles. The result
transformed my life in ways I cannot begin to number. Part of me has come back
from the dead, awakening the physical. But the impacts were not
just bodily-it opened me up to the delights of intimacy and the fun a male
presence brings to my life. The awakening of the second chakra is also associated with emotion, creativity, and clairsentience. The result: my body, mind, and spirit are experiencing a
Renaissance.
· Third
on my list is the resurrection of my friend Helen’s life by a medical team in
LA. Thank you West Hills Hospital. Helen, a woman in her eighties, has been a
significant part of my life for about twenty-five years. Last week she nearly
died from a respiratory arrest. She is the only person I call on a daily basis.
Even though we are totally different women, we have formed a tight bond. I appreciate
how she compliments my life. She is a unique crone of unparalleled depth and
intelligence. Having more time to argue with her, get exasperated by her
stubbornness, and laugh at our contentious relationship, is precious.
· Fourth
on my list is Christian, the twenty-six year old puer aeternus vagabond. Thank
you, Christian. Christian came into my life when James exited. I cannot think
of a better diversion for a heartbreak than mothering a lost soul. It is
astounding after years of being a recluse, I would agree to allow a male live
with me even temporarily. This has been an incredible concession to my privacy
but a good one. There is something about magical about how we interact. He
softens me up and I seem to give him needed structure. He has restored my faith
in men. How? By deftly knowing how to handle my eccentricities-something the
older males of his gender do not grasp. Christian has renewed my hope of
meeting an age appropriate male with whom I may also share a similar bond. His
playfulness, ability to verbalize feelings, and adaptability inspire me.
· The
final person on my resurrection list is my internist, Dr. M. Thank you, Dr. M. When
he became my physician over thirteen years ago right out of his residency, I
groaned. The thought of training this young pup to adapt to my medical
philosophy seemed daunting. Surprisingly, he acclimated to my steadfast refusal
for pharmaceutical interventions for a number of my medical issues. He knows I
will relent if necessary, but I am a firm believer in the less meds the better.
He has also been remarkably accepting of my use of supplements. Two and a half
years ago he diagnosed me with insulin resistance. Unlike most physicians who
would put me on Metformin, he trusted my level of medical knowledge and
motivation to get my blood sugars under control. This Lenten season my blood
glucose readings consistently hit the 70s, I have lost twenty pounds, and there
are no other health repercussions from my now controlled hyperglycemia.
“If
you live in the dark a long time and the sun comes out, you do not cross into
it whistling. There's an initial uprush of relief at first, then-for me,
anyway- a profound dislocation. My old assumptions about how the world works
are buried, yet my new ones aren't yet operational. There's been a death of
sorts, but without a few days in hell, no resurrection is possible.” ― Mary
Karr, Lit
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