In Praise of the Meatsack

PatientC, holding a candle lit for mourning.

I am not supposed to love this meatsack. It has been fat. It is now merely slightly overweight. It has born children, it has run races, it has made music, it has been set on fire for the voyeuristic pleasure of the crowd. It has run miles, biked, skated, and driven even though now it is disabled. It has survived use, misuse, the neglect and punishment of loved ones. It has reveled in the love and affection and romantic attention of other loved ones that actually loved me back. Some days it fails the simple task of truly getting out of bed, except to change the clothes on it, make the bed and them snuggle back into nap blankets for the day.

Yep, I refer to human bodies as meatsacks (or meat bags, much love to HK47 & SWTORII).  Few things eat us, but that does not make us any less meat on the hoof. Meat at the top of the food chain is still meat even if it is rarely tasted. It is okay, though, this is not a bad thing. It serves as a reminder that there is little physical difference between our fleshy engines and that hamburger package that expired today but is probably still okay to eat... I believe it is a fairly adequate description. 

Frequently I find that folks, especially disabled folks like me, can end up looking down on these meatsacks, but I happen to be fond of mine. We are not supposed to love our meatsacks. We are not supposed to think about the fact that tomorrow is not guaranteed. Hell, that next breath is not assured, but we like to think that it is. But we are supposed to feel that our meat is bad: too big, too small, too little, too tall, too voluptuous, too slight, too pale, too dark... we are never just right as taught by the world, our schools, our families, our faith, our neighbors. 

Although meatsacks are unreliable they are the way we interact with the universe. Consciousness is not separate from flesh but laced through it, inseparable from it. Meat is our interface with each other, our easiest and most complicated tool, our first tool and our last tool. Yet we disparage, disregard, and degrade it at every turn. 

I do not believe that we are trapped in this meat, but installed in it, built by it, nourished with millions of sensations every day from it. But USisans, Westerners, we are taught to hate it. We use our meat to share our love, our fear, our joy and our pain - we have no idea what we truly are without out meat but I know this: it would not be the same, it would be less.

Common Christian thought teaches that we should hate our bodies. Our reproduction & our mortality are products of Original Sin - only possible by the act of misbehaving in this meat. So we hate and mortify the body to become closer to the Passion experienced by Christ in order to know and love Him in order to enter Paradise and know God. 

Buddhism treats the mind, body, and soul as one item, inseparable. (As I understand it, from my baby beginner Buddhist tuffit.) This item is inseparable from the world it inhabits. This makes much more sense to me. 

All that to tell you, dear Reader, that no matter what the world tells me, I love this meat bag and all it's faults. I try to see it for what it really is, moment to moment, but I cannot imagine trading it or the adventures it has given me for any other meatsack, ever. 

No More Excuses

In the midst of all the heartache, here I am believing I have no more excuses to ignore my few, precious Dear Readers. So here I am in the midst of a post-truth, post-Trump mindset. Here are the things I am working to accomplish:

Nissi at rest. She is maybe 6 months old here, black with tuxedo like white markings. Here she is napping on the corner of a grey couch. 

• Training the puppy is going well. She is so much smarter than I thought, so it is much more like having a toddler in the house than usual.
• My head hurts. 
• My teeth need attention. Professional attention. I am working on it, appointment after appointment - now I have to see a hygienist four times a year to try to save what I have left. I am starting to sometimes actually look forward to being rid of them some day. 
• I need to write more. A lot more. These brain droppings are cluttering up the works and so I exorcise them with you.
• My gaming will never be better than the upper echelon of mediocre, and it is only very rarely even that good.
• Learning Spanish is slowed to a stop, but I have not given up. Thanks, Duolingo.
• I have the fortune to discuss the nature of reality with the author of Quantum Sorcery - have you read that yet? I learn, aid, and keep the candles stocked - apprenticeship!
• I can now draw a sad coffee cup that other people can recognize and say "nice" without appearing to bullshit me. That is kind of cool, will keep working on it.
• My cleaning projects had unexpected progress, which is great. Our black carpets frequently get vacuumed before they turn grey from pet fur.
• Woot! My craft room is accessible and useful again. It does need some work. It will always need some work. D valiantly offered to get a new sewing machine if I got the room right again - I will be talking about that soon.
• I gathered all the stuff to start learning recorder, but there are too many people home all day for me to feel comfortable going back to fourth grade right now. I can read music and I played clarinet for a decade, this so not be super difficult. But thanks to my teeth (see above) I cannot play clarinet without killing my head, so recorder it is. Well, it will be once I have some private time on the regular again.

My Buddhism may be causing this existential crisis. I have not the resources to take any great practical leap: week or month long retreat. Hell, I can barely afford a new read. But I feel like I am on the burning edge of something... I am not sure if there is much difference between a leap and a fall - besides the landing.

Sometimes I feel something... precious. Dust mites in the sun glinting like diamonds, special in their transience, their worthlessness. Connection to the suffering of others, an empathy uncontrolled in reach and depth, dangerous without the rest. 

A frustration with the things I own owning me, but raised too poor to give away all that I should, let alone minimizing as I sometimes want. Once a poor person has a thing, unless we must leave it behind it is very difficult to give things up. 

An unnamable desperation to stop feeling so fucking desperate. A coming together that keeps falling apart. 

I hope you are getting by, Dear Reader. Find comfort where you can. We are regulated to the fringe again: Outlaws that have done nothing truly wrong. 

PatientC Lives!

It may be news to you, but PatientC still lives. Yes, yet another "get blogging again" effort shows fruit, so let us get fruity!

A tuxedo "pit bull" puppy with a content, silver haired PatientC.

In recent times I have been writing again, and thinking of you, Dear Reader. I finally decided that it should be up to you whether or not you expose yourself to my various news, ideas, and brain drippings. I will share what I want to share, and you can read what you want to read. Consent is a great thing!

Some family, some Family, friends, and associates will now read this, so I have to give this caveat: while I appreciate your attention, please understand that I have to write as if you will never see this space. That does not absolve me from hurt feelings, misunderstandings or other results of us meeting here, it just means that we will have to deal with them together, if you want to deal with them at all. 

Life was in a weird place for a while: I am getting around better, sleeping better, loving more demonstrably, being there, and doing some things more. This has a lot to do with the love and support I have at home, with dealing with ailments and problems more clearly, celebrating victories honestly, and with managing the pain that interfered in every aspect of that life.

The past year saw me lose 50 lbs (because I can move again!), be there for my family (they were the ones in and out of the hospital this time, how weird!), get a dog (Nissi!), and commit myself to learning more about Buddhism even if my attendance at meditation practice has been spotty.

I intend to resume a lot of my regular features: Gimpy Gamer, Buddhism, social justice, disability, Things That Make My Life Easier, reviews, sex - most anything I can hold in my head long enough to get it to you. This means updating most of the whole damn blog, so changes ahead!

How to Restart a Blog

I do not do resolutions, but I do try to reevaluate my goals and recommit myself to those goals. You, Dear Reader, have been on my mind a lot more than I have shown during my hiatus. So, what happenings have happened or are happening?

I just celebrated my first year of no smoking after switching to eCigs. My nicotine intake is less than half of what it was when I started. I was using 36mg juices at the start, and vaping them like there would be no tomorrow. Now I use 18mg to 12mg and actually put them down once in a while. I am currently using a VTR, an Eleaf iStick and an SVD 2.0.

(My spell check is having fits with the above, my apologies for any actual missed typos!)

The family is doing well, despite the challenges in their individual lives. Minion One has technically become an adult, although she is still a high school student. Minion Two has found her groove, I think, and is shining brightly. The menfolk are getting along with life although they too face some challenges.

My Buddhist studies are going well and I am committed to them. Wrestling with my avoidance has been the biggest challenge, as one of the three main components is community (sangha).  

My health has maintained, although it has included a new problem: antiphospolipid syndrome. This has not increased my overall disability, although it is more meds and much more worry. 

I am closer to my idea of a healthy weight after getting better pain management. I had to finally tell my doc, "I am gaining weight because I am not moving and feeling gross and indulging in food, one of the few pleasures I can enjoy just like everyone else. I think if I hurt less I will move more and eat less." That all proved to be true, and although the profession is still moving more towards criminalizing seeking pain treatment, she listened and I started moving more and shedding unneeded and unwanted pounds.

So let me put this out to you before I change my mind.

Bright New Year 2014

PatientC, winter style. 

Ready to start the New Year? Well, the first month of it is almost half over already! What are you going to do with it? That is what I am asking myself, and taking stock of where my ambitions took me last year.

The smoking cessation quest is at an end. I have one or two clove cigarellos (cigarettes) a day, thanks to vaping, eCigs, lots of support, and a lot of willpower. 

This blog turned four, I think. I did better than the previous years regarding getting posts up for your reading pleasure. But I am nowhere near where I want to be. I want to post at least twice a week, that is my goal again for this year. I wrote about a lot of things, and while I think it is important to show that disability is just a way of living and not life itself, I do want to get back to some basics on that front.

I finally invited Buddhism into my life in a more serious way, and that is probably one of the most wise decisions I made this past year. It feels like a natural, right direction for me. The Boyfriend and I attend regular meditation! It is the perfect event for the avoidant girl: get together with folks to sit and be quiet and well, meditate. That makes me giggle, but I am also socializing and learning. I am going to continue to travel down this path this new year.

Weight was a bother. I started the year wasting, so I spent a big part of it eating what I could, when I could, and the more filling the better. When I stopped wasting I put on more weight than I wanted. I am battling social pressures about weight and expectations about weight and disability. I need a solid weight/fitness level that will help see me though not just regular life, but my myriad illnesses/conditions/etc... With better pain management I can move about more, so I have hope that with effort I will be better able to not just manage but own my own form.

I have become a better advocate for myself when dealing with the healthcare community, but I still need some work here. It is so much easier to stand firm for my Minions (daughters) or the Husband than it is for me, and that is problematic.

Speaking of the Minions, things have been hit and miss there. One Minion is doing so much better in school, but the other is having difficulty just getting out the door to attend class. They both need help, and I feel I am just not getting them what they need. Our relationships are shifting to interacting with them as actual folks while also maintaining child/parent relations - it is confusing and frustrating when it is not exciting.

I will talk about all this and more in the upcoming year. I plan on seeing you more often, Gentle Reader!

Keeping On

As I am working on some new content, I wanted to let you know, Gentle Reader, what is going on in this crip(pled) life. 

The eCig smoking reduction/cessation thing is going well. I am down to 12 cloves or less a day, from an initial 30-36 at my peak smoking. This weekend we took a road trip, which usually means a huge amount of smoking on my part, and I only smoked about 8 cigs! I am feeling good about it in general, even though some days are really frustrating.

The Minions (my daughters) are back in school. Hurrah! They are old enough that we can see their adulthood rapidly approaching. I feel like we have not done nearly enough to prepare them for life on their own. 

I am unhappy with my weight and am doing what I can to get that back under control. Well, what is under my control. Last year I wasted to an alarming weight and this year I have done the opposite.

Studying Shambhala Buddhism is a deep learning experience. I have found that I give much more room for learning, for forgiveness, kindness, and gentleness to others than I have for myself over the course of my lifetime. I am facing what disability means to me personally and socially as it interacts with meditation and sometimes causes me to not participate as I would wish. Every time I feel myself close to living in the moment, I feel as if I am putting down an impossible burden of my own design. The one retreat we attended leaves me wanting to attend more but unfortunately there is no longer a regular sitting held in my city.