Riding The Wave – Multiple Myeloma

There is not a ‘required way’ to walk a labyrinth.

The beauty of the labyrinth is that people can approach the experience on their own terms. However, as a guideline, we often break the ‘walk’ into three stages.

Entering: (also referred to as shedding purgation.) During this stage you walk the path toward the center, and should ‘center yoursef’ by trying to put aside worldly concerns and quiet the mind.

Illumination:  The time spent in the center. This is a time of openness and peacefulness; you experience, learn or receive what this unique moment offers. Take your time. Let your inner spirit determine when you leave the center.

Union:  The journey outward. You choose when to leave the center, following the same path. This is a time to consider what occurred in the center and how it may be applied to your life.

Sometimes a fourth stage is described representing life outside the labyrinth; the world where your experience or illumination will affect your future.

All of the above is excerpted from: ChartresLabyrinth

In Gail Sheehy’s take on caregiving from her book Passages in Caregiving and the Eight Labyrinths, Labyrinth Two is The New Normal.

I know many of you like the description of the new normal and many of you don’t. I happen to like it as it aptly describes the metamorphosis that is occuring. When you say it to someone in or out of your current experience they understand immediately what you mean. It is a common reference in dealing with statistics. When you climb or drop to a large degree and stay in that new place it is the new normal that you now judge if you are gaining or losing ground. If you continue to judge this current situation by where you were before, you will feel pretty crappy about things, assuming we’re not talking about a major affluence, but a catastrophic illness. If you can define a new normal and embrace the positives and quickly fix the negatives, you feel more accomplished and successful.

So what is this new normal? Ms. Sheehy says that you are living with a great deal of uncertainty, and you are not going back to the old normal. I would have to agree with her. Even if you do go back to what seems like normal, you are forever changed. You can’t help but look at things differently.

A recent reader (a patient) recently wrote to me about the realization that her old self wasn’t ever coming back and it hit her pretty hard. She liked who she was and all that it represented to herself and her loved ones. Clearly she was grieving, and I understood completely. But I never knew her before and what I know of her now is pretty impressive and I told her so. I suggested we could get an old wooden match box holder, empty out the matches and write down our old life on pieces of paper, put them in the box and ceremoniously bury it in the backyard! It’s an opportunity for a rebirth. Rebuilding ourselves and our lives the way we want now without all the trappings of our life before. Keeping the things that bring us joy and pleasure and letting all the other stuff go. However, this doesn’t substitute the need for us to grieve our loss, as it can be profound.

Ms. Sheey says: “Waves of humble appreciation for life may sweep over you and your loved one. Go with those waves. Let them pull both of you away from your usual habits and routines…” 

Personally, I connected with this statement as it very much represents the title of my blog, Riding the Wave. Hanging on. Going with it. Sometimes I’m riding the wave and the sunshine is fabulous, the spray from the water is spritzing me as I sit on top of it, moving forward with great speed and exhilaration, pounding a fist in the air! Other times, I’m tumbling in the undercurrent, getting water up my nose and salt water in my mouth, seaweed tangled in my hair, sand you know where, looking for the top of the water to gasp for air, grappling for my board! And then sometimes, I’m just gently rocking in the gentleness of the water, contemplating my next move. Hanging out in the troughs for as long as I can, gaining the courage to take another go at it. Like most things challenging and worthwhile, there is fear, courage, success, failure, uncertainty, stress, panic, triumph, and eventually – confidence.

Awww, yes the labyrinth. I’m sort of liking it. It certainly fits with my own experience in our sudden upheaval of waking up in Myelomaville. I wish it were the Land of Oz, but even Dorothy wanted to go home after all her wonderful adventures on The Yellow Brick Road with her new friends. She of course gets to go home, but she is changed. All sorts of things that happen in our lives change us. At least I hope they do. HOW they change us, is truly up to us. Walking the labyrinth or surviving it, we should come out with something of value. Maybe with our loved one, maybe not. In Myelomaville, we are all acutely aware of what we are dealing with on that score. Patient, caregiver, friend or family member. Don’t let this nasty disease steal all your wonderfulness. I’m not talking about the life you had, your profession, or the home you gave up. I’m talking about YOU. All that other stuff is STUFF. But YOU – you are incredible and special. Let it shine through.

Tags: Eight Labyrinths of Caregiving, Gail Sheehy, Labyrinth II, Passages in Caregiving, the new normal, walking a labyrinth