By ANNIE TURNER —— It is a common teaching in the Buddhist faith that we have to let go of what we wish would happen (which causes suffering) in order to be present to what is (acceptance).  The present is all we have, and as R. Rohr would say, the present is where God dwells. My brother, a practicing Buddhist, often speaks of how pain in our lives is inevitable, but that suffering is not, as it comes from pushing back against the pain.

    Ok, I get this. I celebrate folks who can actually do this. It’s just that I can’t. I bitch and moan when life throws bad things at me, pray for everything to be made right IMMEDIATELY, and more. This was just brought home to me today when I am a “panic volcano,” (phrase from TJ Gardner), and my thoughts are a frantic muddle, such as:

–Wah, the pressure outside is down to 967 (down from the happy 1000 millibars which make one feel good);
–Damn, gotta find my cane for walking everywhere, even to the bathroom as legs are so wobbly;
–God, now my hands are shaking and typing is hard;
 –Sigh, have to take some Bonine for dizziness, also take gabapentin for leg neuropathy, felt as constant tingling;
–Start deep breathing to offset the shortness of breath you have coming from lack of blood to heart and lungs;

–Get compression stockings on with festive hearts on them, pull on compression sleeves, and wrap your 2 stomachs in the belly compression band; (a year back I asked my Onco/gyn doc, “Why do I have 2 tummies?” She had no answer for that, but found out on online support groups that blood can pool in abdomen, and that’s why.)

  That’s the wussy, wah-wah stuff but I have learned ways of combating the bad stuff, including these strategies:
   1/ Do 15 min. of my “peppy-peppy” exercises as they help my wobbly legs; that title comes from my son who claimed the woman was on drugs, she smiled so much;
   2/ Do balance exercises from “Stand Tall, Don’t Fall,” by Bill Case, P.T., to help me with vestibular issues.

  3/ Take a salt pill to help increase plasma volume in legs, also drink 32 oz. of water with electrolytes in them (I use LiquidIV).

   4/ Write in my Gratitude Journal as this practice helps me to balance the not-so-good-days. I am grateful for:

—my therapy dog, Jack Russell, who licks my neck when I am ill
–my incredible husband who supports me no matter what, the good and the bad, and makes me laugh hysterically
–my 4 online Dysautonomia support groups where I can share my stuff and support others

-the view from our deck, especially when it is snowing
–my 2 churches, one Catholic, for the Sacraments, the Liturgy, the Eucharist, the Mass, and ritual

–my UCC church with the new and amazing Pastor Don whose sermons always lift my spirits and inspire me
–my friends, the Writers’ Group, my grown kids, my extended family and more
–and grateful for new Nesspresso coffee maker which makes incredible cappuccino, bought after I saw their pods are recyclable; my hands shake so this works for me
–a shout out to my digital friend, Terri, on FB in Milwaukee who shares her POTS journey with me and reminds me of the deep power of the Evangelical black faith: JESUS SAVES!
Ok, off to compress the hell out of my body, make some strong Earl Grey tea (2 bags), and munch on my Keto brownies, which are beyond delicious. If all else fails and I am still shaky, will wrap up in my new, fuzzy heating pad, lie on the bed, and read, for the 10th time, “The Book of Life,” from my favorite Deborah Harkness’s “All Souls Trilogy.”
     And in place of a recipe, here’s a poem by Rumi:

Learn the alchemy true human beings know.
     The moment you accept what troubles
     you’ve been given, the door will open.
     Welcome difficulty as a familiar comrade.
     Joke with torments brought by the Friend.
     Sorrows are the rags of old clothes
     and jackets that serve to cover,
     and then are taken off.
     That undressing,
     and the naked body underneath,
     is the sweetness that comes after grief.
(“Undressing,” from “A Year With Rumi,” Daily Readings, trans. Coleman Barks.)

    Love to all out there, especially my Spoonie community who know what it is like to reach into your drawer for yet another spoon, only to find it empty and a note saying,
     “Baby-doll, you are so in the minus-spoons category. Go to bed, smoke a little, and feel better by and by.”
     Amen, my sisters and brothers.

Annie Turner is an author who lives in Williamsburg. As noted in this piece, her places of worship include Haydenville Congregational Church. Her blog is “Faith Is My Operating System”  and it can be found at  https://faithismyos.blogspot.com