 |
|
|
|
Scripts From An Open Heart Installment VI . . . Mary Pocock |
The Pocock Diaries is a work in progress - this is our sixth installment. If you missed any of the previous installments, then begin here. Entries will be added each month. Some excerpts of e-mails will also be included. And please feel free to send along your thoughts or feedback to The Pocock Diaries
Click on any image to view it enlarged.
|
| |
I sat in the Brain Tumor waiting room for quite a while, pretending to read magazines. Families were hugging their loved ones; the conversation went from seizures to meds. I felt very alone and scared. I decided the fear factor would diminish, if I gave the neurologist a nickname - this worked.
Brain Guy was a nice looking young fellow with a lovely assistant, who told me my symptoms indicated I had trigeminal neuralgia. Just the sound of it made me nauseated, but not as much as the anti seizure meds I took later that night.
A cat scan, blood work and two weeks later, I was in the same crowded waiting room with my friend Coni. Her good company spared me glances of pity from tight knit family units. We were called and ushered in, then the nurse disappeared, so we ushered ourselves into a room.
Brain Guy came in looking anxious for a coffee break. He rambled quickly, mentioning something about two lytic lesions, but likely no problem. He said come back in two months. As he was leaving the room, Coni asked him what might be causing the pain behind my right eye and the facial tremors - he said there could be a tumor at the base of my brain. I asked him where that was and he pointed to where the pain is. So, Coni asked if an MRI might glean some info and he said yes and ordered one. Now I play the waiting game until November. I am thankful Coni was there - nothing like the possibility of a brain tumor to erase all other thoughts in the head.
* * *
Is there truth in life
or is there only ever changing data?
* * * | |
|
There is a
world of difference
between
piousness
and the celebration
of that which is,
yet both stem from
the same desire. | |
My good friend Trish, a lively Irish lass, passed away last September with ovarian cancer. Her partner was out for dinner during the film festival this year, with close friends of Trish. He 'lost it' at dinner. Tears fell. The women hugged him.
Then he felt a firm hand on his shoulder. He turned around to see the actor, Michael Douglas standing there. Michael said to him "I just came over to tell you, you are loved. Deeply loved. I wanted you to know that." What a lovely gesture. |
* * *
In actuality everything is profound. It is just not a BIG deal.
* * * |
Hope comes not from
an external force
but
from an internal |
|
instinct that arises
when all else
fades |
|
|
|
|
The game of golf has risen in popurality the past few years. My pal Marilyn has inadvertently discovered a new catagory for book reviews. She does not like to golf, but accompanied her partner John, a painter, to his last game with Robert, a businessman/artist. She discovered, to her delight, that "Bridget Jones Diary" is a perfect nine hole read! |
Just what is the relationship
between
truth and imagination |
|
art dealers speak of finance
bankers speak of art
artists speak of that which goes beyond
|
| We all have to live with a degree of uncertainty in our lives. Just how do you live in the land of "I don't know?" Gracefully. Or even not gracefully. It is truly difficult to look death in the eye and smile - really smile. Not to mind leaving the joys of this life, the loved ones, the blue sky, gardens, pets and so forth. We can realize that impermanence is real and our true nature is the very stuff these things are made from/of. This part never dies. |
The meaning of life is impermanence.
The meaning of death is illusion.
 |
|
| We can find peace in this world - it is not dependent on the external. Peace lies in our own mind. The habit of seeing things as positive or negative is created in our minds. By allowing our minds to be calm, peaceful and caring, even the breath becomes part of our healing practice. Ordinary life will become a life of healing. |
I need to let my base self sleep
that the resplendent may emerge
from beyond the shadows to dance
in the light of ordinary
reality. | |
| | | |
