I'm returning after illness and recuperation. A shock diagnosis, fast-track, invasive investigations, awaiting life-or-death results, surgery, and then the weird energy of a hospital ward with its clinical machinery, bland decor and robotic routine, all dotted with acts of sweet kindness.
Formal meditation practice becomes impossible at such times, but I found myself grateful for the Jon Kabat-Zinn mantra -
"If you're breathing, there's more right with you than there is wrong with you, no matter what is wrong."
I found it possible to let the medics take care of what was wrong, and focus on those other very basic elements of experience - the fact of having a body - being aware, at least, of my skin touching the sheets and the ability to wiggle my toes and to feel the weight of my head against the pillow. I could also, in the context of the whole body, notice those no-go areas numbed by the anaesthetist's potions and by the surgeon's knife, and by the consequent internal rearrangements.
I could be aware of the mind endlessly generating thoughts like a bubble machine, and emotions like the ebb and flow of a river, and of the possibility of giving and receiving kindness, of being patient, of trusting.
In life, lack of ease (dis-ease) is always but a whisper away, but I seemed to be able to channel Leonard Cohen in experiencing that "the cracks are where the light gets in", the place where we can drink in and savour the good will generated by others, and find kindness for oneself, and healing.
“Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in.”