Session 6: The Downside of Twelve

Six down, six to go. I'm officially on the downside of these 12 sessions, and I'd be lying if I said that didn't feel good. I know better than to take it for granted. There are people in that chair who don't get to see the finish line yet, who don't know when or if they will. So before anything else, I want to just say it plainly: it is a blessing to see a glimpse of what could be. I don't take that lightly.

So how was the big halfway mark? Honestly? Fine. My veins are tired of this. I am tired of this. I said as much out loud and it made my nurse laugh, which felt like the right response. Not everything has to be a revelation. Sometimes it's just true and a little funny and you keep going.

I'm noticing I'm getting back into my old self a bit more each time. Sprint planning went well this session, I actually had real time to sit and think, to be purposeful about it instead of rushing through. I know there's stuff I wanted to get to that I didn't. That's fine. Next time.

The real shift this session had nothing to do with me and everything to do with a couple sitting nearby. A woman and her husband, clearly on their first day. They looked so much like me and my husband that it was almost funny. When the nurse asked how she was doing, she said, flat out, terrified.

I felt them watching me. Not staring, just noticing, the way you notice anyone who seems to know what they're doing when you don't. So I did my routine the way I always do it, calm, no big deal, and I realized partway through that I wasn't just getting through my own session anymore. I was modeling something for her. Here I am, the more experienced one, whatever that's worth. There's an unspoken rule in that room. The chairs are close but not too close. You give people privacy, but you don't ignore them either. It's a strange little social contract nobody teaches you, you just learn it by being in the space enough times.

On my way out I gave her a small smile and "good luck." Just that. I could tell she appreciated it.

There's a quote from 'Abdu'l-Bahá, the Persian spiritual leader whose writings I keep coming back to, that fits this better than anything I could come up with myself: "Be not the slave of your moods, but their master. But if you are so angry, so depressed and so sore that your spirit cannot find deliverance and peace even in prayer, then quickly go and give some pleasure to someone lowly or sorrowful, or to a guilty or innocent sufferer! Sacrifice yourself, your talent, your time, your rest to another, to one who has to bear a heavier load than you."

That's the remedy, isn't it. Get out of your own head by helping someone who's carrying more than you are. I didn't do anything big. I didn't have some grand answer for her fear, because there isn't one. All I did was let her see that it sucks and it's still survivable. That it's okay to be scared and still show up. And somehow doing that for her turned around my own mood too. I'll take that trade every time.

This is one I want my kids to learn early. Not the specifics of this room, but the general shape of it: when you're stuck in your own stuff, go find someone whose stuff is heavier, and help them carry it. It works.

See you next time.