Today is Good Friday, a particularly good day to meditate on loss and resilience.
I had a wonderful visit with my friend, Mike, a couple of days ago. He and I became friends in our teens. We were in the same woodwind quintet through a high school program at Cornish Institute in Seattle. He played French horn and I played flute. I continued to play through college at the University of Washington but not as a music major. Mike went off to Oberlin Conservatory and then the Julliard School. Our lives after high school diverged though I did see him a couple of times during college, when he came back to visit his parents.
While I was becoming a psychologist, Mike was a professional musician. In particular, he played in the orchestra for a lot of Broadway shows. After about 20 years, he decided to study Chinese medicine and he currently has a practice in New York. Now I see us as doing similar things again; we are both healthcare providers. I think that’s pretty cool.
Mike has been in Seattle for the last few weeks to be with his father during his last days. His father’s funeral was last Saturday. Mike’s mother died several years ago of ALS (Lou Gehrig’s disease). I was relieved to hear that his dad did not suffer horribly like his mom did. Mike has had some really big loses over the past year. Remember that I mentioned that he lives in New York City? Well, like many people in that area, he experienced the devastation of Hurricane Sandy. Mike also traveled around neighborhoods to help people. He inspired me with his FaceBook posts, describing the positive ways in which people were helping each other wade through chaos and fear. He reminded me of the Fred Rogers’ quote that went viral on Facebook after the Sandy Hook tragedy.
When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, ‘Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.’ To this day, especially in times of ‘disaster,’ I remember my mother’s words, and I am always comforted by realizing that there are still so many helpers–so many caring people in this world.
Mike’s family is incredible. His parents, who were both born in the U.S., were forced to leave their homes during WWII because they were of Japanese ancestry. He and his family have continued to face discrimination as people of color. Mike is one of the most loving and kind people I know. Nonetheless, he and his partner, Dennis have faced discrimination as a gay men.
I know that Mike has experienced many hurts in his life. But I am struck by his grace, resilience, generosity, and optimism. Mike and I have never discussed mindfulness though I know he practices meditation. I believe him to be a very mindful person, someone who does not ignore painful truths but who observes and accepts them. He also accepts the beautiful truths. I think this is what allows people to grow from hurt, instead of remaining stuck.
Why have I been meditating on loss and resilience? Well, in addition to being inspired by and having a great deal of affection for my friend, Mike, I have been trying to sort through this cancer thing. Many positives have resulted from my experience thus far and it’s hard for me to write about it without fearing that I sending a message like, “Cancer is an awesome gift! I’m so lucky! Yippee!”
Cancer is not something I would invite into my life, but I got it whether I wanted it or not. I do have control to a large extent, over how I live each day and how I incorporate these experiences into a meaningful life. There is growth that can come from adversity and as long as I am experience it, I might as well grow.
This C.S. Lewis quote comes close to what I am trying to express:
Hardships often prepare ordinary people for an extraordinary destiny.
I’m not a big believer in destiny as I am not much into the idea of pre-destination. How about the idea that hardships often prepare ordinary people for an extraordinary future? (Note that it says “often” and not “always”; let’s not bring that big old buzz kill, Nietzche into this.) Yeah, I know that it’s pretty nervy of me to mess with a quote from a most highly regarded Christian scholar. And I’m brazen enough to do it on Good Friday, too!

Trillium intertwined with budding bleeding heart. My garden is really cooperating with the theme of my post today.
What a wonderful post. You are an inspiration to me. Your attitude about cancer is right on..they say attitude causing a higher rate of remission! Keep that chin up!
My goodness, thank you so much! -Elizabeth
It’s always about getting back up, huh. Which, my friend, you are doing with a vengeance. I’d say you’re already experiencing an extraordinary present, so the sky’s the limit for your future.
Thanks, Lisa. You are such a lovely friend.
Not to skip over the thoughtfulness of your post (your friend Mike sounds amazing & I love that Mr. Rogers quote, too)…but the pictures of your garden, made me think of a garden theme I’ve always wanted to do if I had the room or lighting to accommodate it: show the cycle of love/romance in the name of flowers…Love in the Mist…Forget Me Nots…Bleeding Hearts…Love Lies Bleeding (a particularly dramatic variety of amaranth)…back to Love in the Mist. :- D
Beth, we think alike. I have put together a couple of love-themed gardening kits as wedding gifts. For one of my friends, I even threw in a Viagra Lily for good measure. I thought he’d appreciate the humor if not a very bizarre looking plant. I was pretty sure he and his wife would not appreciate the fact that Viagra lilies are pollinated by flies and thus instead of being sweet smelling, give off the odor of carrion! Actually, I wish I’d kept that plant!
Here’s a picture: http://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRq6mmTu1JM/Rz372g7tAUI/AAAAAAAABeA/-hPLsy9PV18/s400/sld11940.jpg&imgrefurl=http://wonder-full-world.blogspot.com/2007/11/weird-beauty.html&h=400&w=268&sz=13&tbnid=lFFf9dj6gVqTBM:&tbnh=96&tbnw=64&zoom=1&usg=__gfgMsxdongs8FFJGUDkeGY5jpqE=&docid=drvsMdwWKsNtXM&sa=X&ei=xkFXUfHkKIjRiAKckIDIDw&ved=0CEkQ9QEwAw&dur=6291
WOW, that photo of the Viagra lily…Georgia O’Keefe would have had a field day painting that one. They should just call it vagina lily. :- D
I knew you’d love that photo, Beth!
Love this MyEyes. Looking for the helpers… What a wonderful perspective at times of crisis. I feel very similar to you, re this cancer experience. I’m not shouting “yippee” either but it has certainly opened a window for me of all the good things I had been blinded by and was bumping into. X
Yes, Lisey, as they say, it has been an “eye opening experience”.
Great words from a great Daughter! My favorite blog.
Thanks, Mom!
Liz, after not having internet access for a few days, I returned to NYC tonight and just read your post…my goodness, I’m deeply flattered and touched.
I have tried to hold myself to a decision to “turn all the stones” on my path. Too look with as much courage as I can muster. I think you do that.
Your post reminded me of 9/11 too. My sense of that day here in NYC was of bearing witness to human suffering. It impacted me deeply and continues to do so. Not trying to necessarily change it, sometimes that can’t happen- but to keep someone company and stay with them in those moments while they figure out what to do… My friends and I spent days in community centers doing listening projects and hearing the stories of families searching for loved ones, weeping with them…and later to the anger, loss and fear of people at ground zero, crying out for retribution…and we just stayed with them and listened…
Both my mother and father taught me to see the good in people, to offer a hand back to someone in need. I was raised in the lefty Catholic church and my parents both worked tirelessly for decades on behalf of homeless senior men. They never considered their own historical hardships as badges of misery- but rather lessons of strengthening and insight….They lived a motto: If you you knew you could help someone in need, why would you not?…
I”m no longer a practicing Catholic, but as my dad was dying these past few weeks, I was reminded of Holy Thursday and the image of washing another’s feet. To my parents, this service towards another, captured a commitment to unconditional love and humility towards all people, especially those most vulnerable or mistreated.
I’ll take that with me going forward in my life without him…
Thank you for your deep and abiding friendship and camaraderie. You are an inspiration to me, dear friend. Taking our long walk together and looking at spring blooms was a wonderful way to celebrate life and resurrection. You are a generous, kind and very strong spirit. Keep shining brightly.
xoxo
Mike
Mwah! Love fest right back at you! Next time, we can go to Lincoln Park, walk along the beach, and look at the mountains. Your parents gave you gifts, which you have treasured and passed to others. Take care.
[…] tough couple of years. And Mike is one of the most resilient people I know, which prompted me to write a post about him last March, when he visited me at the time of his father’s funeral, a couple of weeks after my TRAM […]