Who needs crutches?

Crutches. The very word elicits images of dependence, of infirmity, of weakness. To use a crutch suggests that something may be unpleasantly lacking or structurally unsound. Correct.  My back is not right and it isn’t pleasant at all.  Reminds me of the song ‘That’s life; you’re riding high in April, shot down in May.”  After I learned to adapt to the pain; after I came to accept that there are many things I can’t do; after my bubble popped like a big, fat, yellow balloon – I found myself in a new reality.  Being a respected teacher of English, exploring China’s exotic hinterlands, traveling the backroads of South-East Asia, all those dreams were gone like the balloon. 

Initially, my aspirations towards leading a spiritual life disappeared as well.  I cannot meditate formally because there is pain in sitting, or my mind is fogged by medication.  I see my reflection in the eyes of strangers as a pathetic figure, struggling along with my crutch, eyes glued to the ground. So many friends have been very kind, offering assistance.  Medical people shake their heads and talk about operations.  My fine yellow balloon was long gone. This went on for ten days.

After the period of feeling sorry for myself it dawned upon me that the universe might be trying to teach me something.  There’s a strange symmetry in that two previous visits to Asia in my life have resulted in similar adverse circumstances. First, in India in 1976 I got so sick I thought I was going to die.  The image was of a snake casting off its worn out skin - not yet comfortable with the new, tender, shiny skin and still painfully attached to the old skin. It took some time to adapt, but my life took a whole new turn; the transformation was dramatic. Second, in Thailand in 2012 I lost my beautiful Yoyo, my lover, in a shocking and sudden accident. I found myself emotionally devastated and all alone in a far-off country.  I am no stranger to disaster.  So what to make of the third and current scenario – crippled in a foreign land, but destined to struggle on regardless? 

What can I learn from it all?  The small self has taken a beating once more. Each of the other stories eventually made sense in the light of the great teachings, the universal truths that I have been pursuing for most of my life.  There is a purpose to life and it’s not just about collecting coloured stones, crossing mighty rivers and climbing the rugged mountains.  The ego cannot awaken from the dream.  I know this.  For me the world has stopped.  For what reason?  Why am I here now, in China, on crutches? Perhaps, is it because there is indeed a treasure to be sought, a truth to be realized, but it's one we we must seek without seeking? Who is the seeker? Who is the one who even poses the question?  Meditation is vital, but what is meditation for one who cannot sit in the lotus posture? What is it for one who cannot sit still for 5 minutes?  Now with no balloon I am cast into the sea. Who I thought I was before this seems illusory. My experience of life rises and falls daily like waves on the sea, like the movements of the tides, like my breath coming in… and going out. Just observe….be aware…remain equanimous…what is high will fall…what is low will rise… it is constantly changing.  Here, now, here is peace. Peace.

Standstill

“Standstill…Stagnation” That was the hexagram (#12 out of 64 possible answers) given to me by the Yi Jing in answer to the question I asked about why I have pain in my leg that stops me from walking.  The Yi Jing is said to be the oldest book on Earth; composed maybe 3,000 years ago and used as a guide by Confucius. I don’t know anything about the validity of this form of divination, but the answer was startlingly appropriate to my situation.  I can’t walk. Even a few steps leaning heavily on a stick can cause terrible pain in my leg.

For a time I felt quite depressed because the condition did not seem to improve. I couldn’t go out; I couldn’t sit for long periods and I couldn’t find a comfortable posture to lie down. So what happened?  I don’t really know.  My best guess is that my rather unbalanced posture caused the build-up of scar tissue and eventually gave rise to micro-tearing in at least one muscle fibre. In turn, this resulted in significant inflammation with loss of range of movement and pain. So I’m at a total standstill.  I can’t do anything for days, I see no signs of improvement and I start to think of going home. Even going home would cure nothing. And how can I get to the airport and get on a plane if I can’t walk?

As I’ve seen before, the dark times are laced with veins of gold – the extraordinary kindness of so many people. My adult students took me for an X-ray and bought some medicine for pain relief. My friend at the hostel went a step further and arranged for me to see the best Doctor for this kind of problem. His friend drove me across the city to a specialist. The specialist looked at the X-ray, looked at me stumbling around on my stick and asked a few questions. Then I was lying on his table. It was very painful. At first I thought he was doing diagnosis, but it turned out he understood my problem perfectly and was trying to break down scar tissue in my leg. I recognized the process because that was what the physio had done at home after my operation four years ago. Painful, but effective. Cost me 50 RMB – about $10.

While all this is going on I have on-going conversations on Wechat. Some students want a private lesson. A Toastmaster club wanted me to visit, which I had to cancel because I’m really not running on all cylinders. There is a potential VIP class where a rich businessman will send a car to pick me up and pay me 300RMB/hour (over $100 for two hours) to teach him English so he can deal with travelling overseas.  A casting director wants me to come and meet the Director of a film so I can play a part.  Had to say ‘no’ to that one too.  My Ladies class members drop in every evening to chat, bring food and see if I’m OK. People keep texting me to know what they can do to help me. I have enough fruit to feed a small army. I’m thinking, “If this happened to me in Vancouver would I be getting this level of support?”

I have also been studying more recent Chinese history. The Long March, when you start to read the story of how it went down, has to be one of the most extraordinary tales of the 20^th Century. Having killed off thousands of Communists in Shanghai, the Nationalist army had Mao’s Communists encircled. Jiang Jie Shi had won the struggle with the other warlords in China was intent on stamping out resistance to his rule – whatever it took. His troops stole, burned and pillaged their way around China.  In contrast, the Communists were inspired by the ideals of the resistance movements of the previous 100 years in China such as the Taiping and the Boxers. It was their rule to take nothing without paying and to treat the common people as their brothers. Mao admired George Washington and took inspiration from the story of Valley Forge. They opposed oppression and had a vision of a greater China ruled fairly according to the high principles – “Workers of the World Unite! You have nothing to lose but your chains.” 70% of the land was owned by a small minority who treated the majority like dirt.  It’s no wonder that by 1949 most of China had changed sides. If I had been Chinese in the 1930s I would have been a Communist.