Equanimity or Bust
This morning we have big construction trucks and a crane to lift two HVAC package units up onto the roof. It’s a BIG project and the work began before 6 a.m. Not like I wasn’t awake. Breaking dawn was my circadian rhythm well before teen throb vampires claimed the concept. I went up to grind coffee beans and begin making some oatmeal with ginger and turmeric, as I do every morning. Though admittedly I was up at 5 a.m. googling whether ginger was contributing to my lower than normal diastolic blood pressure numbers. I noticed my pulse pressure was wider than normal lately and I didn’t know if that was attributed to aging or EDS or my POTS getting ancy about the fresh grated roots that I use to dim the chronic pain. Isn’t that a trade off? POTS or Pain? Which one do you want to aggravate today? Regardless, I still grated the ginger and turmeric this morning, a change in lifestyle wasn’t going to happen today. I’ll still research more and pop a question out to my POTS peeps.
I saw there was a man sitting in a big white truck in our driveway. It was barely after 5:30 a.m., so I went outside and said hello. Bob introduced himself and said other crew would be arriving soon, so I asked him when he thought I should wake up the rest of the house, and he said to let them sleep another 30 minutes. Which I did. The interaction didn’t take more then 60 seconds. 90 seconds tops. But by the time I got back inside, I was winded, my ears were ringing louder than the window unit we are using while the HVACs are down. The adrenaline has spilled into my bloodstream from the standing and talking even ever to briefly, but all too early in the day when my blood volume isn’t established, when I don’t have my blood sugar balanced. But really in truth is it only because it is that I have dysautonomia and this is what life looks like.
As people woke up, more trucks arrived and the big crane came and there was a quick conference on how it would navigate the hairpin turn to the driveway from an all too narrow street and a nasty incline to the house. They were concerned that the truck would bottom out and damage the driveway … fast forward to avoid any suspense, it did. I wanted to stay out there and watch the activity. I wasn’t concerned about any damage, I trusted the crew and the redneck wasn’t worried. Everyone looked like they knew their role well. I didn’t NEED to be there. I wanted to be there. It was exciting. I wanted to watch. And their lies the conundrum … it was exciting. Everyone was busy and bustling around. Lots of happy faces, some joking banter. The air was filled with energy. And I was standing. In truth there are often times even standing at the pond’s edge all alone in the pristine silence of our back yard habitat .. is too much for my ANS.
So sit down! Someone might think. And it’s true, in some situations, sitting down or reclining in a zero gravity chair, or laying down flat on the ground with my feet elevated … might make it possible to stay where I want to be, for at least a little while longer. But beyond the orthostatic situation, there was the emotional component of “exciting”. And that’s simply not a doable demeanor for the dysfunctional autonomics. It might as well be a saber-tooth tiger nipping at my backside. The energy in the air puts too much pulsating neurotransmitters into my body freeways.
In my practice the term equanimity refers to the ability to “stay calm” even in difficult situations. I use to chide myself for not being able to “sit through” a board meeting back in my working days. Or run rampant with self-abasing thoughts if I had to leave in the middle of a movie after paying the price of admission. And let’s face it a movie was cheap back in my time of living at large. I’d been known to leave DisneyLand after paying a day’s salary. It’s how I rolled. Because it didn’t matter how much money was lost, how important the board agenda may have been, or how precious the solo was that my kid sang in the 5th grade. Having a dysfunctional ANS means sometimes you can’t rise to the occasion.
I use to think that if I meditated more, and practiced equanimity that I’d be able to sail through the POTS holes in a way that was more dignified and graceful. It never actually worked that way. No matter how much I would mentally prepare to remain “calm” in light of external circumstances. I would never “feel calm” inside my body and I would have to leave, cancel, forfeit or otherwise FAIL at the task at hand.
The difference that years of practice DOES make, is that I sometimes no longer see these short comings as failures. I say sometimes, because self-loathing habits die hard and I STILL want to rise above the chaos inside my body as to align my physical abilities with what my mind wants to do. This morning, I would have liked to have stayed and watched the crane back up and gently scrape the driveway. But I couldn’t stand and deliver. It wasn’t a big deal. No one expected me to be there. I wasn’t helping in any way shape or form. I was just interested and curious. I didn’t want to leave. But my body had other needs as it often does.
Equanimity then for me doesn’t mean that by all intents and appearances I will be, look or behave calmly given the circumstances. At times, I will be able to leave gracefully, because I’m use to trying to make everything look okay outwardly as I’m falling apart on the inside. But I will still be unable to meditate my way out of feeling like a buzzing, dizzy, tachy, bursting at the seams toxic wasteland. Because that’s not in the cards and my poker face can’t bluff my autonomic system which busts my attempt at standing my ground in peaceful bliss.
