If there is one skill in which I excel, it is in turning the shit of the situation into a fertile experience. Of course, it's all a learning experience, and always material for the writer. And if you look deeper, a possibility for deeper practice.
The last few days I've been considering the zen meditation, form is emptiness, emptiness is form. I've "meditated" on this phrase quite a bit this year. There is a mobius, fractal depth folding and unfolding in these six words. It makes perfect sense on so many levels. It is a dual - two opposing sides of a similar coin. But if you pull back and look at the phrase beyond time, you will see it has an expression in time and a different outside of time. Things move along the continuum from emptiness to the tiniest speck of possibility along the trajectory of manifestation of form, and then back to the dissolution of emptiness. The ebb and flow as waves lapping sand on a beach that shimmers inside and beyond time simultaneously. The phrase expresses perception coexisting in and beyond time.
And hey, wanna blow your mind even more? Then just add multiple realities to the emptiness is form and form is emptiness. A constant folding and unfolding mandala through multitude perceptions of reality in time and in timeless. Yeah! Go brain.
What does this have to do with lemons? Well, as they say, if life gives you lemons, make lemonade. The sentiment to make the best of a bad situation. There's also the chinese parable of good luck, bad luck, who knows...
Anyway, I got some pretty bad news about my favorite person, ahem, living being, my dog, Mr. Dog. He's an old man at ~13 and I've been steeling myself for something bad to occur that would mark the end of his time here with me. Well, news I recently received is he is diagnosed with lymphoma, a very common cancer of the lymph nodes for pets (and humans). Well, let's just say that was very saddening news to me. For 24 hours I kind of lost it. I lost all hope. I felt like I was at the end. That there was nothing to do... or worse yet, there were options and I had to figure out what to do. I learned an incredible amount of information (thanks to my friends) in those first 24 hours.
I had no energy. I gave up. I surrendered. I didn't want to fight. I finally knew the thing that would kill him. There is no cure. There is no hope for a cure. I was shocked at how quickly I surrendered. To have the realization that I am not a fighter. That this was a battle I knew I/we would lose. 36 hours in, I was coming out of my pit of despair. I saw other possibilities. I sprang into action. Could we help further science? I started researching clinical studies, to find a match. Nothing really presented itself, besides with the holidays people were out of the office. However, researching the clinical trials did cause me to understand the cutting edge research on this canine disease. Interesting data points presented themselves and I started formulating a treatment protocol based on science, my intuition, my own training in "weird shit," and having Mr Dog's happiness (he love avocados) as the objective.
Here's the good luck, bad luck, who knows, lemon part. All of a sudden, I have become excellent at dog care. I've put together a plan. I'm keeping notes. I'm using some skills I rarely utilize for this kind of thing, and in doing so, has caused me some deep reflections. Reflections about the metaphysical nature of disease as a form and its return to formlessness. As much as you could say life is a form to which it returns to emptiness, and perhaps disease is one way of the form of life returning to the emptiness. Can one life return to the formlessness of emptiness without death? So say the yogis, but that is beyond my pay grade.
These are the strange lemons I have found in my holiday gift basket. And thus, I will make equally strange lemonade. Because good luck, bad luck, who knows?
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