Zen, the Art of Tri-Fold, and Wisdom of Lily von Shtupp

I am tired of doctor’s offices. I am tired of waiting rooms, examining rooms, patronizing medical staff, hospitals, fasting, phlebotomists who can’t find a vein, tests, test results, more tests, insurance companies who try to dictate what your doctor should be prescribing, doctors who don’t talk to each other (yet work in the same hospital system)… as Lily von Shtupp sang in “Blazing Saddles,” “Tired of pwayin’ da game, ain't it a fwiggin’ shame… Let’s face it, I’m tired.”

There is within us all a place of strength. A place that, when we remember it is there, gives us tremendous power and resilience. It only takes a few moments a day to tap into that place and allow it to carry us through the day.

This economy sucks. It has completely fucked any plans for moving to a more temperate location and getting on with our lives in any way other than “getting by.” People’s nerves and emotions are on edge at work. One can play the role of “the voice of reason” for only so long before you want to scream ‘Don’t you people fucking get it?” Half are in panic (as they should be) and half are oblivious (as they always have been and will be). As I have observed before in other jobs, the higher up you go in the chain of decision making, the scarier it gets. Add to that, living in possibly the rudest place I have ever lived (and I come from New Jersey), it makes the day-to-day nothing more than something to be endured. I hate South Florida.

I love palm trees. My parents lived in Florida for five years and I would visit each February. They lived in a house that was right on a mangrove with exotic flora and fauna just outside their door. Of all of the things that were so different from the cold, Maine winters I would be visiting from, it was the palm trees. For some reason, they made me smile. They still do.

When I told my boss that I would be needing more time off today for a doctor visit and tests, she suggested that I take the day off. Bless her heart. At first I thought that it would only make my already unmanageable workload even worse. But as the week went on, I realized that a little time off right now would be a good thing. Still, I took work home with me and what am I doing while writing this? Laundry, cleaning up, etc. I suppose it is my way of bringing some order to a world of chaos in a way that I can control… my own personal battle with entropy. There is Zen in a clean tri-fold of shirts, towels, and underwear (yes, we tri-fold our underwear). It is 78 degrees outside; dry, sunny – and I am using my time off for laundry and logging into the server at work.

I am often surprised to hear how many people feel that they “have no choice.” “I hate my job, but I have no choice.” “I want to break up, but I have no choice.” “I want to do this another way but I have no choice.” There is always a choice. Of course, there is also accountability and consequence. When you face those two things, you choices expand considerably.

Yesterday, at work, we had a speaker who was a psychologist gracing us with her personal vision (and sales pitch for her business) about coping during these difficult times. She went on about Eastern Philosophy (mostly Buddhism) and how many of the more effective coping mechanisms used in Western culture were stolen from the East. Even though there was noting particularly wrong about what she said, who has not heard all of this before? Well, apparently everyone else in the room. I couldn’t let it go. Normally, I am a good soldier, but this one I could not let go. When she motioned the author Pema Chodron, I said “the author of ‘When Things Fall Apart’ - yup, I read it.” That got me a glare and was just the beginning. By the third of fourth round we had, she offered me $5 to keep my mouth shut. I said, “You don’t want me to do that. As a psychologist, don’t you want to know how I feel?” For all those who live in the world of psychobabble – don’t assume we are all newbies and ignorant just because you read “The Secret” and most of the other manipulative bull out there, and that you have stumbled upon THE ANSWER.

There is a place deep inside, in the heart of hearts, the place where we are our naked selves with no judgment, pretense, or walls of defense. For many, just the thought of this place frightens. For those who have been there, it is where our answers reside – only if we are listening.

“I am a walking contradiction, partly truth and partly fiction.” All of these things are me.