Peace Returns

I always find it fascinating how quickly peace returns when I face and share the dark times. It was only yesterday that I was struggling with my altitude and now I seem to be cruising steadily again in calm air.

I want to thank all of you who have reached out to me with expressions of concern and comfort, or who have sent good energy and wishes my way. I know that helped a lot too.

This morning it occurred to me that it is as important to write about the return of peace today, as it was to write about the struggle of yesterday. Often, I forget how quickly this can happen if I am truly present to pain, both physical and emotional. Once the light of understanding and compassion shines on pain, it dissolves. It also helps to share it and not keep it inside where it festers and grows.

It reminds me of Theo seeking love. He MEOWS very loudly, letting me know he needs attention. Then he hops up into whatever I’m doing: sitting on the keyboard, circling the cutting board, plopping down near my plate. If I absently scratch an ear in an attempt to placate him, he meows again and pushes closer, insisting that I pay full attention. He will keep this up until I turn to him, place my forehead on his and scratch the sides of his face, pouring love and attention into him. Then he erupts in that lovely purrrr of his. He can handle this for about five minutes, after which he hops down and goes happily on with his day. My pain seems to also need that five minutes of complete and total attention and love, then it moves on.

Today I feel like a mountain lake after a thunderstorm, serene and still, perfectly reflecting the sky, and the peaks.

 

Struggling with my Altitude

I debated about writing this entry, but I believe it is important to share this part of Hip Adventures. We all have adventures of some kind, and struggling with maintaining altitude during the challenging times is part of all our life journeys.

I am mostly a positive, sunny person who looks on the bright side of situations, even the really bad ones. This has always helped me through the dark times. And I tend to only want to write about staying in the Light.

But sometimes it is important to share about being in the darkness, the despair, the discouragement, the pain, the sadness, the exhaustion. I am in this place now, where this whole situation feels heavy and I no longer feel strong enough to pick myself up and rise above it. It’s easy to tell myself a story about how this saga will never end and I will never walk and move effortlessly and pain-free again. I am so tired of the pain and the disability.

I recognize a lot of my sense of self has been wrapped around the strength and endurance of my physical body. Now that is slipping away. With the leaving, there is grieving. As much as I want to escape, it is important for me to be with this grief, with all these dark emotions. I have no more strength to run from the pain anymore. So I let it wash over me in waves–crying when I need to, asking for a hug when I need one, taking time for myself, talking to loved ones, petting Theo, and writing, which has always been one of my main outlets.

It’s an odd thing to discover that when I’m with pain, it passes through me like a wave. Then it dissipates and there is peace and calm. Then another wave comes, and goes. Who is it who watches all the comings and goings? The pain and the relief? The sadness and the joy?

As my physical self fades, the Spirit that animates it grows stronger. My awareness of this Spirit  within me grows. It is eternal and always filled with peace and a quiet joy. This is the great discovery of turning to face the darkness, of allowing the altitude to dip beneath the clouds. The great tapestry of Life is woven of both the light and the darkness. Without the contrast, we would not be able to experience it all.

If I allow myself to settle deep within, I can feel myself at One with Everything. Here there is no pain and it is all ok. It seems I must be willing to go down into the clouds and fall into the Sea to be one with Spirit. Here there is boundless love and endless peace, and I can rest and heal. Then, when it is time, I will break the surface and fly up and out again, chasing the sun.

I love to fly near the sun. But, that is only one aspect of Life. No one gets to always fly near the sun, ask Icarus. However, I’m not sure that he really drowned in the ocean when he fell out of the sky. I like to think he found his true depths in the Ocean of Being and then learned to fly free through it all.

6 months

Today is the six-month anniversary of my first hip replacement. Two weeks ago I visited with my surgeon to discuss my next hip replacement. I guess this is my year to get a new set of wheels…

Here are the xrays, on the left my hips on March 8th, on the right my hips on October 6th:

  

The joint space has narrowed in the last 5 months, particularly on the lower, back side. This is what I feel, and hear, when I move and now when I sit and lie down. When I described what’s happening now, the only question Dr. Shukla and Davis (his assistant) had was, “When would you like to schedule surgery?” I picked May 16th, 8 months from my first surgery.

I am still having problems with the muscles in my right hip, mostly in the area that is over the knot on the end of the cable that surrounds my femur. Dr. Shukla says that the irritation could be caused by the cable and we can consider removing it later if the problems continue. He did warn me that if my left femur looks anything like my right, he will have to cable it. We both agree it would be great if he didn’t have to, then there would be a basis of comparison between the two sides. I guess we will see what happens. I trust his judgment.

I am grateful that they told me the second hip could take the fast track after the first one was replaced. Though I was hoping it would last longer, I was at least prepared that it might not. But, I still feel like I’m in shock and trying to wrap myself around this whole unfolding scenario.

I’m in a better place with it all two weeks after the appointment. I can see all the benefits to going ahead with it, though I dread doing this so soon after the last one. The reality is that I am afraid to walk very much now and this is not helpful for my right hip, which really needs to be strengthened. I do what I can in the pool, and with yoga and Tai Chi. But that isn’t getting me any closer to my goal of being able to walk and stand at least enough to live a more normal life.

So, now I am doing my best to psych myself up for this. Trying to stay focused on all the positives is helpful, and knowing I have such a wonderful community of friends, family and neighbors who are here for me. I am confident it will go well, though I am prepared for a long rehabilitation. Now I will be rehabbing two hips, but at least they will be strong, balanced and correctly attached to my body. Finally having a solid foundation under me is something I look forward to! I’m curious about how that will feel and how the rehab may be different when I’m no longer wonky.

Lately, I’ve reflected on the bigger picture surrounding the events of this year. I know that I am in the midst of a major transformation of my life, not just my butt… I am entering a new phase, hopefully with more compassion, patience, tolerance and wisdom. I am realigning the deeper parts of myself, creating a firm foundation within and without. I guess what I’m trying to say is I know it isn’t just about my hips, but about my whole being, my whole life. I will never be the same after this year. And that is not a bad thing.

I can already feel the softening, the slowing down, taking hold of me. I don’t want it to let go as I heal physically. I won’t let it go. For me, life has always been a race to get things done, to reach goals, to make plans for the future, to run away from the pain of the past or the anxiety of the present. This experience has literally sat me down, forced me to get and stay quiet. I’m finding that I love the peace of stillness and silence. There is no place to go out there, nothing to do, just be here and now in this moment. Though I have understood this intellectually and pursued it in meditation for the last 27 years, it’s only now that I am experiencing it more and more. And I want more! More of less. These old hips have been a godsend.

My First Quaker Meeting

I’ve been writing for a Quaker newsletter called What Canst Thou Say?  (WCTS?) for about twelve years now. One particular editor, Mariellen, has kept me in the query loop all these years after we were connected by the death of a mutual friend, who also wrote for WCTS?.  This newsletter is a place for Quakers to share their mystical experiences and the insights which have come from their contemplative practice. Reading their essays and poems have helped me understand some of my own experiences, and to feel less alone and strange! There is an honest poignancy to their writing, which speaks candidly of the light and dark, blissful and tragic, mundane and sublime that lives in us all. Here is the website if you wish to check it out: http://whatcanstthousay.org.

As my hips fell out from under me, much of my world also changed. I found myself home and sitting much more than I was ever inclined, or allowed, to do before. I felt irresistibly drawn to the writings of mystics and contemplatives, discovering a number of books on my own shelves thanks to my friend who passed and left them to me those twelve years ago. I again recognized some of my own experiences and realizations in their stories, just like I had on the pages of WCTS?.

Some time before my first hip replacement, I had a transformational experience related to a past life and I wrote an essay about it. Mariellen asked if I would be willing to Guest Edit an edition of WCTS? on “Other Lives.” I agreed to do so. More related experiences happened around my surgery and I added to the story. Now I am in the final editing process of that newsletter. It has been a beautiful process where everyone works to come to consensus about what is included and how it is edited. Editing is done gently, with reverence and respect for the offerings of each author. Here is a PDF of my essay:

My Sister, MySelf

Simultaneously, I was reading editor, Mike Resman’s book Immersed in Prayer (available on Amazon). Many of the authors in the book spoke about their experiences during silent meetings for worship. The desire grew in me to experience a meeting for myself. I remember getting online and discovering a Quaker Meeting House only two miles from our home http://renofriends.org.  I had to LOL while reading their page on “Wonder If You Might Be A Quaker At Heart?” This past Sunday, I decided it was time to go.

Quakers believe that we all have the living spirit of the Creator within us. They seek to be quiet and listen to the “still small voice within.” When they feel moved to do so, they speak from this place. The Reno Friends (another name for Quakers) meets for silent worship from 10:00-11:00 on Sundays. Inside the cozy, brick house, chairs are set up in two concentric circles in a large, well-lit living room. You pick your spot and sit quietly, allowing yourself to settle and center, to be receptive to that “still small voice” and to anything Spirit might wish to impart. In my own experience, it is most like sitting in a meditation circle or group. Sometimes people speak; sometimes there is only silence, punctuated by the breath and stirrings of those in attendance. During my first meeting, no one spoke. I recall thinking how refreshing it was to come and simply listen, to wait expectantly and be still, not needing to say anything.

When the Clerk ended the meeting, we were again invited to speak and again we chose silence. Then the peace was passed to those near us–touching hands and smiling into each other’s eyes. Announcements came next. Some people left. Others stayed to talk, and to find out who I was and how I came to be there. So, I told them this story.

Here is some of what I wrote in my journal afterwards:

I forget the sweet depth I can enter when sitting in circle silently with others. The restlessness settles and my mind quiets. There were 8 of us–a small group. I sat between a mother and her son. Later, I discovered they are neighbors of mine, only two blocks away. Being here feels like coming home. Coming home to something that was always within me and has been pursuing me for 12 years now. Finally, I have turned around to embrace it. I can’t shake the strong sense of having been here before, like being wrapped in an old, familiar quilt from childhood.

5 Months

I had a good couple of weeks after my last entry. I made it up to a mile on my walks. Scott went with me once and I was able to keep up with him, something I hadn’t been able to do in a long time. My yoga practice got stronger. Pain levels stayed down and my hope soared for a good summer with some hiking in the mountains.

And then it changed again. I started having more pain in the left hip. It would be two good days, one bad day, a good day, two bad days. Very up and down, unpredictable. The pain in Lefty is different–sharper, more insistent and more resistant to pain relief. I started to have some nights when, even after 2 doses of ibuprofen, I was still aching and unable to sleep. The left hip began to give out on occasion, which didn’t happen until later in the process with Righty. Lefty continues to get noisier–lots of clicking and clacking when the joint moves in certain ways. Righty was always silent, never letting on about the severe damage inside the joint, which was why none of us ever suspected severe arthritis.

During my last massage, my therapist noticed that the right hip was much better than the left for the first time. The joint and surrounding muscles on the left were all tight and painful, very similar to how they had been with my right hip prior to surgery.

I decided that I would see how our February 20-23 trip to Las Vegas went, with all the walking. If it went badly, I’d call my surgeon. I just returned from this trip (fun adventure with all our elders along for the experience).

On the first day, Scott and I walked from the Bellagio to New York New York and back, about 2 miles. It was the longest trek I’d made since the surgery, and I wanted to see how I would do. Turns out the 2 mile jaunt after walking in the airports and in the Bellagio (where we stayed) was way too much. The muscles in my right hip got tight and fatigued and I kept having to stop, stretch them out and rest (thank goodness for all the chairs in front of slot machines in Vegas!). And my left hip was very unhappy. Once we got back to the Bellagio and I could rest, my right hip released and the pain went away. But the left hip just kept aching, all the way through the night and into the next day, despite two doses of ibuprofen.

After that, I didn’t walk as much, often opting to hang out with my 92-year-old father-in-law who is more my speed! Now that I’m home, the right hip feels like it is getting better and stronger all the time. But, my left hip remains achy. I’m beginning not to trust it to hold me up, and my stride is again shrinking. So, I’m penguin waddling a lot. This is not helpful for rehabbing my right hip, which really needs to be walking more now.

I had to laugh when I found this cartoon in the senior magazine I was reading this morning, advising walking like a penguin in order to stop winter falls! Well, at least I’m reducing my fall risk…Image result

I’ve got to say this little face captures how I feel, only I’d add some tears rolling down the cheeks. I took another spin on the “releasing expectations” wheel and am trying to wrap my head around this. Yesterday, I called my surgeon and made an appointment to see him in March to discuss the replacement of my left hip. It is hard to even write that sentence, but I did promise that I wouldn’t sink into denial and let this one go so long, and I intend to keep that promise. I’m hoping the recovery will be better as a result.

I remember being so hopeful at the four-month mark that I would get a reprieve from another surgery for the summer. I am so bummed about losing another summer of camping and hiking. I was really looking forward to that. But, I have had the joy of many summers in the high country and I believe there will be many more once this ordeal is behind me. I continue to be thankful this is all fixable, and there are definite benefits to doing it sooner vs. later.

So now it’s time to face reality, dig deep and fan the flames of my positive attitude.

Is this how freedom dies in America?

President Trump made this remark during a speech in Ohio yesterday:

“You’re up there, you’ve got half the room going totally crazy — wild, they loved everything, they want to do something great for our country,” Trump said. “And you have the other side — even on positive news, really positive news like that — they were like death. And un-American. Un-American. Somebody said, ‘treasonous.’ I mean, yeah, I guess, why not? Can we call that treason? Why not! I mean they certainly didn’t seem to love our country very much.”

The First Amendment of the United States of America states:

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press, or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.

Our forefathers believed these rights were important enough to their new democracy that they placed them first on the Bill of Rights. What is happening in America when our President essentially makes a statement indicating that if you do not applaud him, you could be considered guilty of treason?

What is the punishment for treason in the United States?

Whoever, owing allegiance to the United States, levies war against them or adheres to their enemies, giving them aid and comfort within the United States or elsewhere, is guilty of treason and shall suffer death, or shall be imprisoned not less than five years and fined under this title but not less than $10,000; and shall be incapable of holding any office under the United States. (June 25, 1948, ch. 645, 62 Stat. 807; Pub. L. 103–322, title XXXIII, § 330016(2)(J), Sept. 13, 1994, 108 Stat. 2148.)

Today the White House spokesman said President Trump was joking. This is not something the supposed “leader of the free world” jokes about. It seems he’s fishing to see what our response will be. Who will support him in making, and possibly, enforcing this kind of outrageous accusation? If we show support, then it could solve all his problems with the Democratic party (and democracy) in one fell swoop. Freedom in America dies and another authoritarian dictator rises.

If you care about freedom in America, now is a good time to speak up.

~~~

I was pleased to learn that the Reno Gazette Journal chose to publish this piece on their Opinion page. I was also heartened to see they included footage of Republican Senator, Jeff Flake’s response to Trump’s comments.  Opinion Published in Reno Gazette Journal.

4 Months

Yesterday marked the 4-month anniversary of my right hip replacement. My Physical Therapist had told me that I would probably see a big difference at 4 months, and I’m happy to say she was right!

In the last couple of weeks, I have experienced a big shift. I am stronger and my muscles have less pain after I use them for walking or standing, unless I over do it. I’m hardly using ibuprofen anymore. The scar is looking really good, so I’ve decided to change my daily massages with vitamin E oil to weekly. It feels like the internal scar tissue is also softening and healing, so my range of motion is better and there is less grinding around in there. My massage therapist says it feels much better to her too, and that is validating.

I was able to take a few 3/4-mile walks this week with no ill effects. It’s been 8 months since I’ve been able to do that. I can do side leg lifts, including the clam now, which I was unable to do at 3 months. Stairs are getting better all the time, but remain my biggest challenge. Tai Chi and Yoga are easier and less painful. I can do balance poses like Tree more easily and hold them for longer. Dancer is slowly coming back, but I can’t lean forward very far just yet. I’m stronger in my lunges and bent-knee poses, and the pain is less. I’m still loving my time in the pool the most and I suspect that will continue.

To celebrate my new level of healing, I went out and bought really good hiking poles at REI. I am hopeful that I’ll be able to do some hiking in the warmer months this year.

Leftie is still trying to decide what she thinks about all this. She is sore after too much walking or standing, but she is stable, maybe even a little better than last month. I am hoping she will hang on for me at least through the summer. I am so not ready to do this again.

I realize how much it’s taken out of me. My energy levels are still lower than my normal and I can only do so much in one day. I am getting better at accepting and surrendering to this reality and pacing myself accordingly. I believe this is the biggest part of my healing-honoring where I am and not pushing it. It’s good for me to learn this, though sometimes it is a hard teacher.

I sit and relax more than I ever have. I am better at asking for, and graciously receiving, help from others. And I am very grateful for all the kindness and support that surrounds me.

Today I moved out of my studio where I used to teach Yoga and Tai Chi. I haven’t done that since last spring and I still don’t feel ready to teach again. I also realized that the desire to have a studio and teach on any kind of schedule has left me. It feels like I am entering a new, more spontaneous stage. I can see doing these practices in the park behind our home when I am so inspired and inviting others to join in. But that feels like it may be a ways off yet. Teaching helped me both to deepen my own practice and to help others with theirs. I’m grateful for the time I was able to teach over the last 8 years. I’m enjoying my yoga room in our back bedroom and I do Tai Chi to wake my body up every morning.

Now we will see how my life unfolds from here. I’m enjoying more reading and writing time, and time to just be with Scott, family, friends, and myself. Perhaps, that is really what this whole Hip Adventure is all about…

Magic Meetings Part Two

Yesterday I wrote about the magic meetings between Scott and I, and Peggy and Bruce. After our coffee with Peggy and Bruce, we headed to the hot springs to soak with Marta and Larry. I promised I’d tell the story of the magic meeting that led to our friendship with them.

~~~

I met Marta in the mid-1980’s in a COBOL programming class. We were both Business majors at the University of Nevada Reno. Marta and I were partners in this demanding class which required us to write computer programs in the COBOL language, a language used for business applications. We spent many hours searching for elusive missing periods and errors in syntax that caused the program to crash repeatedly. Finally, often in the wee hours of the morning, we got the program to run perfectly right before the deadline.

Sharing this experience created a friendship and Marta came to my bridal shower and wedding when I was married in 1988. She was also married around this time. It seems like we lost touch some time after that as our lives moved in different directions.

In 2012,  I moved back to Reno after 20 years away. Shortly after returning, I was demonstrating yoga at a health fair. My partner at the time and I were teaching yoga at a training studio and they had a booth to promote their studio at the health fair. I was demonstrating poses and talking to people about yoga, when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around and there was a familiar face surrounded by a cascade of brunette hair. “Rhonda?” “Marta?” That same laugh again, the one that is filled with both wonder and delight. We disappeared into a big hug and everything else faded into the background while we quickly caught up.

Now, what are the chances that we would end up at a random health fair with booths right next to each other after we had not seen each other in over 20 years?

We exchanged cards and parted with an agreement to get together soon. “Soon” happened about two years later when I needed Marta’s help with my mother. Marta works with the Center for Healthy Aging and runs the Philips Lifeline program. My mom needed a Lifeline to help keep her safe in her home. Marta came out to install it. This time we set a date for lunch. Since that date four years ago, we have grown closer and closer. Scott knew Marta from high school, so our friendship also reconnected them. And both Scott and I now know and love Marta’s partner, Larry.

We often go to the hot springs together where we share a membership. When we got in the pool yesterday, another member looked up and remarked, “Are you guys a package deal or what?”

We laughed, “Yes, we are!”

~~~

When I look back at these magic meetings, I am still filled with wonder, and gratitude. How did these old friends end up back in my life after a 20-year absence under such mysterious circumstances? We are even closer now than we were before. It whispers to me of the threads of heart that weave us together in the tapestry of Life. We always find one another again, when the moment is right. This I have come to trust.

Magic Meetings

Yesterday Scott and I took my cousins out to lunch. This is an annual event to celebrate their Birthdays. They were born on the same day. Later in the afternoon, we planned to meet our friends Marta and Larry for a soak in the hot springs about one hour south of Reno.

We had some time in between and found ourselves exploring the little towns of Gardnerville and Minden, which are essentially the same town. This is where my parents met when they were teenagers. We checked out the new Community and Senior Center in a beautiful building on the south end of town. We went to the cemetery where my family is buried and one of Scott’s Nona’s, Theresa. Then we decided a coffee sounded good and settled on a Starbucks on the north end of town. We pulled in and as we headed towards the door, who should pull in but our next door neighbors, Peggy and Bruce!

What magic in the Universe would have brought us all to the same Starbucks in a small town an hour from our neighborhood in Reno, at the same moment? If we had agreed to meet there, we could not have timed our arrival more perfectly. We all laughed and marveled at this amazing synchronicity. They had been gone for three days, celebrating New Years with friends in the South Tahoe area. We had been watching their cats and their home. They had also been wandering around exploring, slowly making their way back towards Reno. They decided, like us, to stop and have a coffee.

It reminded all of us of another magic meeting, the one that resulted in their becoming our next door neighbors. That’s a story worth telling. When you hear it, you’ll understand why we all shrugged as we sat down with our coffees, and agreed, “This is how it is with us.”

The story begins 27 years ago when Peggy, Scott and I all worked as computer consultants for the University of Nevada System Computing Services. This is how we met. Our working time together was brief, maybe only a few months. Peggy moved on to teach math. I went to graduate school in Florida. Only Scott remained, working there until he retired in 2013.

I eventually ended up in Colorado, moving back to Reno to be with my aging parents in 2012–20 years after I’d left. Scott and I had reconnected over email in 2008. When I moved, we started spending time together in late 2012 and fell in love. In the spring of 2013, he asked me to move in with him. He lives in a charming neighborhood near our city’s largest park and the University of Nevada where we both received our undergraduate degrees. I loved the neighborhood and was looking forward to living there.

I put my home, on the opposite side of town, on the market in March. It sold in one day! Talk about a green light from the Universe! I was drinking a glass of wine to celebrate when there was a knock on the door. I opened it to find a realtor who had two clients with her, a couple. I told them I’d already sold it and they were visibly disappointed. I asked them if they’d like to see the place, just to give them some ideas. I always figure every house you see is good information when you are looking for a home.

As we wandered through the house, I learned they had recently married and this would be their first home together. We were standing in the dining room area when the woman asked me where I was moving to and I described the neighborhood. She knew it well, including the street. “Who are you moving in with?”

When I told her Scott’s name, she cocked her head to the side and asked, “Rhonda?” In that moment it struck me why she seemed so familiar to me, but I couldn’t place her. After all, it had been 21 years since we had last seen each other. Suddenly, I knew! “Peggy?” We laughed–that same laugh. How could this have happened? The realtor didn’t have an appointment, didn’t know the home had sold, but decided to chance stopping by. In all reality, this magic meeting should never have occurred. But it did.

Turns out Peggy used to stay with Jana. Jana lives two doors down from us. Here’s another amazing coincidence: Jana and I were officemates for the 4 years I worked at the Computing Center! Now we are neighbors.

Anyhow, Peggy looked at me and said, “That’s where I really want to live.” She was still teaching math at the University and our house is within walking distance of UNR.

I said, “Well, this might be your lucky day. The next door neighbor just put a For Sale By Owner sign up in the front yard this week. I’d love to have you for a neighbor!”

The next minute the realtor was asking the address so she could look it up. The next day they were taking a tour of the home. The next month they moved in. And the rest is history. Peggy and I often connect with each other at just the right magic moments when we need to share something.

Even though we know this is how it is with us, we still marvel when it happens like it did yesterday and reminds us with such clarity, that there are mysterious, magic threads connecting us through space and time.

~~~

Tomorrow I’ll tell about the magic meeting that led to our friendship with Marta and Larry. That’s a good one too.

Releasing Expectations

This post was inspired by my “3 Months” post in Hip Adventures. I am struggling with releasing my expectation that I would be all better by now. I realize my expectation was that I would be back to all my normal activities by now and would be mostly pain free. I’m not. And my other hip is going. I am disappointed, sad, frustrated, and angry.

This morning in my meditation I reflected on Buddha’s wise observation, “Attachment is the root of all suffering.” This is one of the basic tenets of Buddhism. As one of my favorite teachers says, “Pain in life is a given, suffering is optional.” He liked to use a great mental picture to demonstrate this. He said, “We often cling to our pain and our stories and dramas about our pain, like clutching a burning ember in our hands. It would be better if we dropped all of it, including the ember, and soaked our hand in cold water.”

My version of doing this is to have a really good cry and let my tears be the water soothing my burning emotions. I let my tears wash away all those painful feelings, acknowledging them as they go. That’s what I did Monday morning when I finally allowed myself to admit that my left hip is failing. After this emotional thunderstorm, the clouds burn away and I am able to see sunlight again, to look on the brighter side of the situation.

This always requires releasing the expectation that things should be different than they are. In this situation, it means letting go of the expectation that my right hip should be healed and pain free by now, and my left hip should be ok for another few years. This is not reality. And I promised my left hip I would not bury my pain in denial, like I did with my right hip. It serves no useful purpose and it causes unnecessary suffering.

Once I feel my feelings and release my expectations, I can then focus on the positive aspects of the situation, marshal my resources and make a sensible plan of action. I know I am not ready to have another surgery right now, but I think I could manage it in the spring. I’ve made a deal with myself that if I have more problems with my left hip by the end of February, I will make an appointment to see Dr. Shukla and take it from there.

Since making this decision, I have felt more peaceful. There is less emotional turmoil and railing against what is happening. The “woe is me” story is fading. Yes, I do still feel all those feelings at times, especially when I hurt, but now they pass through more easily. This is simply “what is so” at this moment. It is so much easier to release my expectations and be with it, holding myself with compassion and keeping my teddy bear handy.