today’s a good day to sharpen don’t-know mind

In her poem “When Death Comes,” Mary Oliver writes, “When it’s over, I want to say: all my life / I was a bride married to amazement. / I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.” To me, on this day, she reminds me to stay open to the ten thousand possibilities while living my illness in all its manifestations.

The first person to reply to Saturday’s “you have blood cancer” post was my Zen teacher (who’s also an MD): “Please hold ‘don’t know mind’ until you have a diagnosis. Then let us know ASAP.” In short, go and talk to experts, gather more facts, and beware of monkey mind — that crazy child aspect of yours that, when spooked, tends to imagine the worst. Return again and again to not-knowing mind. Exhale frequently and take charge of your healing. Treat yourself to croissants and whatever pleases your body.

Checking her records, my GP connected some dots today. Turns out that for several years my body has been harbouring a low-level form of Chronic lymphocytic leukemia (CLL), a disease in blood and bone marrow.  “It develops slowly over months and years and is one of the most common types of leukemia in adults” (Canadian Cancer Society).

It may well be, speculated my doc, that my two-months ordeal involving knee replacement surgery, urinary tract infection, and emergency sepsis has stirred up the slumbering CLL. But we don’t know, she reminded me. All we have is a bunch of symptoms which we need to investigate. Off to the lab with you for more blood and urine tests. Go and rest, eat even if you don’t feel like it (to restore the drastic weight loss), and know that this too shall pass.

This is how Frank Ostseski describes don’t-know mind —

This moment right here before us, this problem we are tackling, this person who is dying, this task we are completing, this relationship we are building, this pain and beauty we are facing — we have never experienced it before. When we enter a situation with don’t know mind, we have a pure willingness to do so, without attachment to a particular view or outcome. We don’t throw our knowledge away — it is always there in the background, ready to come to our aid should we need it — but we let go of fixed ideas. We let go of control. Don’t-know mind is an invitation to enter life with fresh eyes, to empty our minds and open our hearts.” (The Five Invitations: Discovering What Death Can Teach Us About Living Fully. Flatiron Books, 2017).

℘

A friend told of her experience at an ancient Zen temple in Japan. One day a fire destroyed most of the main building, including roof, paintings, and artifacts. She recalls seeing the senior monk standing amid the damage, saying, “All gone. But okay.”