Her eyes met mine as I stared into them from above. Then as I lay down on my back on the floor next to her, I cocked my head, smiled. Looking into her confused face I said, “Well, what are we doing down here?”
We both laughed uncontrollably as our neighbor watched in dismay. “I guess it was a little too soon for me to try this,” Althea said.
“Well, you learned something today and there was no harm done. Are you alright?”
“I just got tangled up in the pedals so I sat down on the floor. After I got tired, I leaned back and waited for you to come.”
I giggled and said, “Here I am. Let’s get you up.”
Althea’s recovery process is taking time. Being extremely patient and slowing down was difficult for me since I prided myself on getting things done quickly and efficiently. But her recovery is much like brewing a good cup of coffee: both are indeed best when done slow and steady.
Chapter 30 — April 4, 2008 — Day 43
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Disagreements are a part of any relationship. When two people with independent spirits live together, many kinds of disagreements are inevitable, but exploring choices and considering options makes for an interesting and stimulating life. When two people strongly disagree about an issue, when emotions and feelings fall into play, such disagreements can escalate and turn into heated arguments.
Something dark grows inside of you when you argue. Springing up instantly and fiercely, this dark thing—this angry being—grabs hold of you and takes over complete command of your mind. Your spirit surrenders to this angry being since it believes it is more powerful. Your angry being feels like it needs to defend more than the words you are saying. Your angry being needs to defend you from attack.
You typically end up saying and doing things you regret when this angry being swells up inside. Anything that transpires—be it lies, deceit, half truths, or sometimes rage—is justified because this angry being must be “right” and in being right, it “wins.”
This angry being is illogical and, when it feels cornered, strikes out by yelling; it believes whoever yells the loudest for the longest may win. Winning at all costs becomes more important than being right, and the argument escalates.
Escalated arguers rarely fight fair. Like a furious cat fight, fur flies and hisses of warning sizzle through the air. Two people posture for whatever remaining territory can be regained and often the original point starting the argument gets long lost in the anger. Relinquishing complete control to this angry being is unproductive in that nothing gets resolved, and feelings on both sides of the argument get hurt.
We didn’t argue much in our relationship but when we did, I was the one who became illogical and Althea was usually right. When bantering back and forth on issues of conflicting views, when one of us felt attacked by the other, an argument resulted and sometimes things were said that had no foundation in reality.
Althea has an amazing amount of common sense and I have reasonable logic. Rarely winning an argument, I would resort to all sorts of diversion and deflection tactics to steer the argument into something I might win. Doing so infrequently worked; typically nothing was resolved and the steep cost was hurting the one I loved.
Admitting you are wrong is hard for most people to do. It means that somewhere your thinking is in error and your angry being resents such an inference. Unproductive arguments can also slowly degrade the quality of any relationship. It was this type of unproductive argument we both saw and caused us to seek out professional help.
As we argued in the bathroom one day about something we both felt strongly about, we each tried to convince the other that our position was the right one. We stood firm in our beliefs, defending our side by making points and counterpoints, but eventually circling back and returning to where we began.
One of us stopped and said something profound: “We get to this point in an argument and we go round and round like a perpetual dance never finding a solution.” Without realizing what we had done, it helped us focus on its resolution: we gave our problem a name.
Naming our argument process broke the circular cycle, stopped us arguing, and caused us to look at the moment. The moment is all there ever is, and when your spirit regains control of your mind, you can disengage it and return to the moment. In the moment, you see what is real rather than what this angry being tells you. In the moment, there are no judgments, no emotions, and no resentments, just observations. Here in the moment, we noticed something familiar about how we argued; we called it the dance.
Not knowing what to do from this point but proud of ourselves for making this breakthrough, Althea found psychologists who dealt in creative ways to extract more of our spirit at such times. In one class, we drove to a seminar at a remote ranch in South Dakota.
The day trip from Denver was wonderful, the weather was perfect, and we packed light. This weekend retreat provided everything else we needed from food to lodging so there was no need to carry much luggage. Arriving at the ranch, we settled in for what proved to be a pivotal experience.
At such seminars, group therapies prevail where chosen individuals demonstrate key concepts. Some people volunteered for these demonstrations. But for those concepts most difficult to embrace, hands rarely raised for such extreme challenges. It was as if doing the work revealed your inadequacies and doing so in a large group felt unsafe. So, the psychologist would hand select individuals who she felt could best depict the characteristics to those watching.
One such demonstration was a technique called a knee-to-knee. Here, two people sit in chairs across from each other so close their knees literally touch, and they can easily reach out and hold each other’s hands. Althea and I were selected as candidates for this demonstration.
The object of this technique was to learn to fight fair and hold on to each other while talking. Something changes in a conversation when you hold the hand of the person with which you are talking. Sometimes, you feel like pulling away and other times you feel very calm. This technique revealed to us that touching suppresses the angry being and allows you to speak from your heart. Of course, this was what we really wanted to do from the start and as we practiced this tool, we realized how to stop our dance.
It was wonderful. As soon as an argument escalated, we would hold hands, look lovingly into each other’s eyes, and one of us would say, “Let’s not dance.” Sure enough, we didn’t. Sitting down in chairs, we would stop what we were doing and take time to hear each other from our spirits and not from our angry beings.
Arguments don’t go away in relationships but with tools such as this knee-to-knee, resolutions to disagreements come more quickly. Applying this technique to other challenging areas of our personal communication also worked. When I was preoccupied thinking intensely about something, not hearing everything, Althea would just reach out, touch my hand, and look into my eyes. Nothing more need be said. At that instant, I realized I was not giving her my complete attention and I was about to miss something she wanted to say that was very important.
I believe there are no accidents or coincidences. I believe everything happens for a reason, although we may not understand the reason at the time. When on Vision Quest, I struggled typically with the lesson of patience, and each time it came up, I believed I had learned that lesson. But the lesson of patience reappeared in many of my seven Vision Quests. Each time I gained another insight to it. In a knee-to-knee, the lesson of patience again reappeared.
If you love someone, you naturally want to do things to nurture that love. Getting to the point in an argument where love enters, helps to release the agitation of impatience. Moving your perspective from your own eyes to those of someone observing the conversation releases all of your emotions since observers are not invested in the outcome of either side. Watching how you react and what you do or say helps you to understand who you are and what your mind is doing in running or ruining your body. As an observer, your sprit can make decisions and lovingly remind your mind that minor adjus
tments to behaviors must be made.
Some people call this ability to view from the side being Present. That is, when you observe the moment, when you release the control your mind has over your body and allow your spirit to regain control, time stands still and you truly see what is happening.
Most people live life in their minds since they trust it implicitly to make the right decision. After all, you are still alive today and the decisions you made with your mind must have been correct. So there is no reason to suspect what your mind does is in any way wrong or improper.
Our mind is a fantastic computer, but it is just a tool the Creator gives our spirits to use. A mind like any computer merely regurgitates whatever it has been taught and conditioned to do; it cannot create or think of anything new. When confronted with any situation, your mind searches for similar experiences and compares these results to that desired of this situation. It then makes a recommendation—a choice—to your spirit.
Reasons for a decision are also presented to your spirit in a dialog that goes something like, Last time, we did this and we got that. But your mind filters some things out when making recommendations that can obstruct the truth. Not considering other results—such as how the recommendation of a choice or action impacts others or what the long-term implications of this choice are—can result in an outcome completely different than the results you desire. When you blindly take your mind’s recommendation for such a choice, your spirit can find itself in a position in which it truthfully doesn’t want to be.
When being Present, your spirit is usually aware of such oversights and can laugh at what was not considered in your mind’s recommendation. You can lovingly remind your mind it overlooked this, or you can retrain it to include such situations in future recommendations. Once this feedback process happens, your spirit regains control of your life and you make choices based on more than you did before. You make choices from your heart.
Emotions are who we are and allowing them to be, but not immediately reacting to them, helps you observe from the Present. Allowing yourself to feel and then move into that place of understanding—that place of Presence—can redirect knee-jerk reactions or preconditioned patterns. When I decide I need to change, I transfer my focus from the problem to the Present and miraculous things happen. I get what I want. I become calm and happy.
Going back to work today was timely; it gave us a break from each other and exposed us to other people. Caregivers, especially those who dedicate their lives to caring for one person, can get burned out without also caring for themselves. Allowing yourself time to do your favorite things—even if it means leaving the person for which you are caring—maintains your sanity and well being.
I like to work. I enjoy using my brain and my hands to build things that last. Our relationship is no different; working hard at it produces long-term, lasting results. Even though I have returned to work, when Althea has a doctor’s appointment or a therapy session, I’ll take off to be with her. To me, this is quality time.
Just before leaving work to take Althea to therapy, my boss handed me a card in which the group signed and expressed their well wishes. Thanking him, I drove home knowing that Althea loved getting cards and surprises, this one would be both. When I got home, she opened the card and read the wonderful supportive thoughts and prayers from each and every person, she started to cry.
“What’s wrong honey?”
“Nothing. I didn’t realize how many people loved me so deeply.”
It is Althea’s childlike wonder, this lack of callousness, this innocence, I feel so fortunate to experience in her healing journey. Being allowed to watch a miracle in the making first hand is more important to me than any other earthly event. I feel like I have been given the gift of seeing our hopes, dreams, and desires—our own thoughts—materialize in front of our eyes. I see more things happen each day and I treasure them for what they are—miracles! Each tiny improvement makes my life experience so complete, so fulfilled, and so full of wonder and amazement.
As we were getting ready to leave for a Physical Therapy session, the telephone rang. I answered it and then the doorbell rang. As if nothing were impeding her, as if she had never had a life-threatening stroke, Althea answered the door by herself. I was amazed. She walked all the way over there without wavering in the slightest. Her gait is obviously much steadier.
The neighborhood well wishers left before I hung up the phone and Althea again walked back into the kitchen and sat down in her chair waiting for me to finish. When I hung up, she looked me squarely in the eyes and said, “I’m going to try something. I want to stop taking the homeopathic remedy just to see if it is still helping me.”
“Okay. Let’s try it and see what happens,” I responded curiously knowing that this daily dose had helped her progress to where she is today. “Is there a problem?”
“No, I just don’t like taking any medications, be it pills or homeopathic remedies, longer than I must.”
When we arrived at the Physical Therapy clinic, a new therapist worked with Althea who pushed her with more exercises and fewer breaks in between. As I watched, I could see this new level of intensity really wore her out, especially the leg exercises on her left leg. A new exercise, a side-step dance, caused her legs to feel like rubber after which her gait was markedly slower.
Althea wears out after such intense sessions and when we returned home, she took my arm, waddled back to her favorite living room chair, and plopped down hard. Holding the back of her hand up to her forehead, she closed her eyes and said, “Whew! That was tough.”
“They had you do a lot of different things and this new therapist was a Drill Sergeant. I thought you were back in boot camp as hard as she was pushing you.”
“I feel better the day after my sessions but tire out right after.”
“Just relax and take it easy. I’ll fix dinner.”
Althea was quiet the rest of the evening as we watched a few movies chatting briefly about the characters and the plot. She enjoyed the gluten free pizza I whipped up and we sipped on some fresh, tea.
“A friend emailed me a link to a video I want to watch. It’s about a woman doctor who had a stroke similar to yours and how she recovered. Do you want to watch it with me?”
“Okay, but I may fall asleep.”
I connected the laptop to the television and brought up the web page. This woman, a research scientist at the Harvard Department of Psychiatry, was studying the inner workings of the human brain in excruciating detail. They were attempting to understand the differences between normal brains and those with psychological abnormalities like schizophrenia and bipolar disorders. One morning while getting ready to go to work, this woman had a stroke identical to Althea’s. As the scenes unfolded, Althea’s eyes and ears remained glued to the television set.
When it was over, Althea was emotionally overwhelmed by this short video. I pulled up a chair next to hers, close enough to touch knee-to-knee. Reaching out, I grabbed her hands in mine, gazed into her wide eyes, and calmly said, “So, what did you relate to?”
Wiping her tear filled face with the back of her hand, Althea began, “This doctor’s challenge with her brain was identical to mine. She spoke in words that mirrored my own experience. When I was in ICU, I felt the oneness with everyone just like she described, but I couldn’t talk or move. I wanted to share this with you, but I couldn’t. My body wouldn’t do what I wanted it to.”
I raised my thumb in the ‘thumbs-up’ position and said, “Each time you squeezed my thumb, I knew you were there somewhere behind those closed eyes. Through that thumb is how I looked into your soul and felt your spirit. Whenever you heard my voice, you got excited and I saw a smile unfold behind your eyes.”
“The oneness with everyone was an incredible experience,” Althea said raising both of her hands into the air. “Her explanation of our energetic connection with everything was quick and unbelievable! I could not have said it better.”
“What did you feel
in this state?” I asked curiously.
“I don’t recall clearly, but I do remember that feeling of oneness. It was like there was no difference between me or the nurse, or the wires connected to my chest, or even the bed. They all felt like I melted into them and they melted into me. There was no time, just now.”
“Could you feel me?”
“Yes, I could. Your words were less important than your touch. I just needed you to be there with me and as I drifted in and out your thumb would still be there in my hand when I returned.”
“I’ll always be here, whenever you want me.”
Althea squared her eyes with mine. “You’re an amazing man. I am so lucky to have you.”
“I am the lucky one,” I said sobbing. “Your tenderness fills my heart.”
For the first time since her stoke, we were able to talk about it on a conscious level. We could share the feelings with each other and understand what really happened. She shared with me her euphoric state, the way her expansiveness reached to the ends of the universe.
Althea: A Story of Love Page 42
