New practice, new healing
// Filed in: Lyme Disease Treatment|Lyme Success Story
Healing through cross-training
Surprises. Some are fabulous, whereas others we could live without. Before I was diagnosed with Lyme I never would have guessed that it could happen to me. Took me completely by surprise. But the nastiest blow was being told by the IDSA doctor, “Looks like MS. My advice is to apply for disability, get a wheelchair, and get ready to spend the rest of your life in it.”
Needless to say, I changed doctors, and was lucky enough to stumble upon a group of smart ones who had a clue about Lyme, and as much faith in me as I had in myself. I didn't get a wheelchair. I learned to walk, talk, and think straight again even through the pain. Over a period of years, I found ways to heal my body, mind and spirit through cross-training.
Time is a river
I thought about the element of surprise yesterday. A friend told me an anecdote about the way different cultures perceive the concept of time. Westerners and Easterners envision time differently. Both see time as a river.
However, in the West we imagine that events flow towards us from the horizon, approaching the present moment where we stand. In front of us, we see future events as they approach. When the event/time has past, it disappears behind, fading into memory.
Easterners imagine time's river approaching from behind. The future comes up from behind, like a surprise. It isn't visible until it's upon us. As events pass by, they flow away to the horizon, fading gradually from memory, appearing smaller and farther away as they go.
Lyme disease was like that for me. It attacked out of the blue, and engulfed my present moments for many years. But gratefully, as the time of being so sick has faded into the horizon, I see it from an increasingly distant perspective. And life continues to come up from behind and surprise me.
Starting a practice
I recently did something that I wanted to do when I was a teenager, at which time circumstances intervened, so I never got around to it. So it seemed a bit surprising, a little out-of-the-blue when recently I started taking Taekwondo lessons at a local studio. The present moment snuck up from behind once again. But this is no brutal blow like Lyme delivered. It's a nice surprise.
Starting a martial arts practice in my 50s – peri-menopause and post-Lyme. Ha, ha, right? Yes, I have stepped out of my comfort zone. And in spite of however it looks, I'm going for it. Even if I look silly, or have to push myself really hard. Even if I am really bad at it. Which I am. But I will stick with it, because it's fun, challenging, and has benefits for the brain (and god knows, I can use all the help I can get).
In fact, physical exercise is reported to be better for improving cognitive functions than even mental exercise. My brand of cross-training has always included an exercise component, but martial arts is well suited to my needs, because it's a body-mind-spirit practice. You have to find what works for you. When I was fighting Lyme at the acute stage, I couldn't even handle much walking, let alone do martial arts. For help regaining my balance, slower, meditative exercises such as Tai Chi and Qi Gong were well-suited.
Importance of community
The Taekwondo community my partner and I joined is a family-friendly place. Very supportive. Folks are each at their own stage of development. There are lots of women and children, and people of every age, from three-year-olds to at least one 70-something. Some have been at it for years, some are newbies. Everyone has something to teach or offer.
I practiced with a 5 year-old yesterday whose listening skills were, embarrassingly, better than mine. As instructed, he nonchalantly executed five perfect kicks in a row. Meantime, I lost track of count and lost my balance. Ten minutes later, I was mirroring an economics professor, a black belt. He helped me aim my roundhouse kick more precisely. Following that, I sparred with a woman ten inches taller and four years more experienced than me.
Astonishing turnaround
Another beginner, a 43 year-old pediatric endocrinologist (I know, it's a mouthful), told me she had decided to start training because of a patient of hers. He is a member of the community too. She saw him go through astonishing changes over the course of his seven years of practice. He is 18 now, and was diagnosed with diabetes at age six. He had been overweight and at times severely depressed. Last Saturday we watched him skillfully earn his first-degree adult black belt. Afterward, he read aloud a personal essay he'd written about his healing journey through martial arts. He's headed off to college, a dream that when he was child, he assumed would never come true.
But the future is full of surprises. Some surprises we will abhor. Others we appreciate. Perhaps in the end it equals out, I don't know.
Can you recall any good surprises in your life since Lyme? If you're not there yet, it's okay. Sometimes it helps to hear stories of courage and victory. Other times, not so much. It depends on where you are on your path. My wish for every person suffering from Lyme or any chronic illness is always this: Persevere. Find the right healing path, diet, medicine, and Lyme doctors for you. Find a community of people who will cheer you on, offer you a hand up when you lose your balance, and celebrate your victories when you succeed. The river of time is on your side.
Surprises. Some are fabulous, whereas others we could live without. Before I was diagnosed with Lyme I never would have guessed that it could happen to me. Took me completely by surprise. But the nastiest blow was being told by the IDSA doctor, “Looks like MS. My advice is to apply for disability, get a wheelchair, and get ready to spend the rest of your life in it.”
Needless to say, I changed doctors, and was lucky enough to stumble upon a group of smart ones who had a clue about Lyme, and as much faith in me as I had in myself. I didn't get a wheelchair. I learned to walk, talk, and think straight again even through the pain. Over a period of years, I found ways to heal my body, mind and spirit through cross-training.
Time is a river
I thought about the element of surprise yesterday. A friend told me an anecdote about the way different cultures perceive the concept of time. Westerners and Easterners envision time differently. Both see time as a river.
However, in the West we imagine that events flow towards us from the horizon, approaching the present moment where we stand. In front of us, we see future events as they approach. When the event/time has past, it disappears behind, fading into memory.
Easterners imagine time's river approaching from behind. The future comes up from behind, like a surprise. It isn't visible until it's upon us. As events pass by, they flow away to the horizon, fading gradually from memory, appearing smaller and farther away as they go.
Lyme disease was like that for me. It attacked out of the blue, and engulfed my present moments for many years. But gratefully, as the time of being so sick has faded into the horizon, I see it from an increasingly distant perspective. And life continues to come up from behind and surprise me.
Starting a practice
I recently did something that I wanted to do when I was a teenager, at which time circumstances intervened, so I never got around to it. So it seemed a bit surprising, a little out-of-the-blue when recently I started taking Taekwondo lessons at a local studio. The present moment snuck up from behind once again. But this is no brutal blow like Lyme delivered. It's a nice surprise.
Starting a martial arts practice in my 50s – peri-menopause and post-Lyme. Ha, ha, right? Yes, I have stepped out of my comfort zone. And in spite of however it looks, I'm going for it. Even if I look silly, or have to push myself really hard. Even if I am really bad at it. Which I am. But I will stick with it, because it's fun, challenging, and has benefits for the brain (and god knows, I can use all the help I can get).
In fact, physical exercise is reported to be better for improving cognitive functions than even mental exercise. My brand of cross-training has always included an exercise component, but martial arts is well suited to my needs, because it's a body-mind-spirit practice. You have to find what works for you. When I was fighting Lyme at the acute stage, I couldn't even handle much walking, let alone do martial arts. For help regaining my balance, slower, meditative exercises such as Tai Chi and Qi Gong were well-suited.
Importance of community
The Taekwondo community my partner and I joined is a family-friendly place. Very supportive. Folks are each at their own stage of development. There are lots of women and children, and people of every age, from three-year-olds to at least one 70-something. Some have been at it for years, some are newbies. Everyone has something to teach or offer.
I practiced with a 5 year-old yesterday whose listening skills were, embarrassingly, better than mine. As instructed, he nonchalantly executed five perfect kicks in a row. Meantime, I lost track of count and lost my balance. Ten minutes later, I was mirroring an economics professor, a black belt. He helped me aim my roundhouse kick more precisely. Following that, I sparred with a woman ten inches taller and four years more experienced than me.
Astonishing turnaround
Another beginner, a 43 year-old pediatric endocrinologist (I know, it's a mouthful), told me she had decided to start training because of a patient of hers. He is a member of the community too. She saw him go through astonishing changes over the course of his seven years of practice. He is 18 now, and was diagnosed with diabetes at age six. He had been overweight and at times severely depressed. Last Saturday we watched him skillfully earn his first-degree adult black belt. Afterward, he read aloud a personal essay he'd written about his healing journey through martial arts. He's headed off to college, a dream that when he was child, he assumed would never come true.
But the future is full of surprises. Some surprises we will abhor. Others we appreciate. Perhaps in the end it equals out, I don't know.
Can you recall any good surprises in your life since Lyme? If you're not there yet, it's okay. Sometimes it helps to hear stories of courage and victory. Other times, not so much. It depends on where you are on your path. My wish for every person suffering from Lyme or any chronic illness is always this: Persevere. Find the right healing path, diet, medicine, and Lyme doctors for you. Find a community of people who will cheer you on, offer you a hand up when you lose your balance, and celebrate your victories when you succeed. The river of time is on your side.
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