The Gift of the Flu

Three weeks ago, I had a visit from a fierce teacher called the stomach flu.  It was intense enough that I spent five days in bed, which is very unusual for me. I am now up and about, but it is still giving me the gifts of queasiness, weakness and headaches.

All the way through this sojourn with the flu, I was a tightness detective.  What do I mean when I say this?  Rather than completely reacting to the flu, I was able, over and over again, to notice that I was tightening in resistance.  This is the opposite of what we usually do, for we have all been thoroughly conditioned to tighten around discomfort, trying to make it go away.  But there comes a time when we see that all resistance leads to is suffering.

With the flu, it was abundantly clear that tightening was only making it worse.  My mind would tighten and spin out in resistance, “I don’t like this.  I wish it would go away.  How long is this going to last?  I think it is going to last forever!”  It is so painful to be caught in the stories of resistance.  My body would also tighten, amplifying the nausea, the headaches and the overall ache in my body.

But that tightening also woke up my curiosity.  Instead of turning away from myself, I would turn towards and actually be with my body and my mind as they were suffering. Somewhere in the middle of this, I remembered a wonderful statement from Stephen Levine, my principle mentor, “We leave ourselves when we most need ourselves.”

Even though resistance was still very strong, (the mind truly does not like the flu!) curiosity allowed me to find some space around all the unpleasantness that comes with the flu so that, rather than going further and further into the suffering of resistance, I could actually be present for myself.

As you discover the art of turning toward yourself rather than away when discomfort is present, a wonderful thing begins to happen – your heart begins to open.  When you are in resistance, your heart closes like a sea anemone that is touched in the tidal pool by the ocean.  But the more you are here for yourself, especially when what you are experiencing is uncomfortable (whether it is a story of fear in your mind, a deep feeling of despair or your body is in pain), the more it is safe for your heart to open again.

Words cannot describe what it is like to be in deep resistance (in other words truly suffering), and then to have your natural curiosity wake up and, rather than being lost in your suffering, you are now present for it.  And the more present you are, the more your heart naturally opens and enfolds whatever you have been resisting in deep acceptance.

Imagine what it would be like if, when you were a child, you had the most amazing mother.  And when a friend rejected you and called you names, instead of being all alone in your suffering, you could go to your mother and share what happened.  Rather than ignoring you, or judging you, or trying to fix you (all the things we do to ourselves when we are hurting) she meets you with her heart as she listens to you, acknowledges your experience and then when you have been heard, helps you to gain some insight from the experience.  That is what it is like to actually turn toward yourself and meet whatever you are experiencing with curiosity, compassion and acceptance.

You may long for that kind of mother, but what would it be like to know that it is your heart you have been waiting for. For it is your heart that can become the healing balm for all the suffering you experience in your life.  Or as Jeff Foster, author of The Deepest Acceptance says, “All suffering is an invitation into deep acceptance of this moment and of our vulnerability in the face of life.”

Don’t get caught in the trap of trying to figure out how to meet yourself with your heart.  Instead, be willing to ask Life to show you the pathway back to you heart.  And just as millions of flowers are blooming right now as you are reading this, your beautiful heart will bloom again, softening all the pains of your life.