The Emptiness of Surgery

I had surgery on my rotator cuff on Wednesday. Through the admissions and waiting, I held tight to a small brass statue of the Buddha. Why? Because, as my holy teacher Kelly has said, in times of adversity, hold fast to karma and emptiness. Holding on to this small statue, which fit so nicely in the palm of my hand, helped me hold on to these two concepts. What does this mean? I held on to the idea that my karma -- the seeds I have planted by how I have treated others -- are what caused me to be in the hospital at that moment, and what caused me to have pain in my right shoulder to such an extent that I was willing to have surgery. The teachings advise me that by not taking care of others, I planted the seeds to have this injury. Lest this seem harsh, the teachings also advise me that by taking care of others, I planted the seeds to be covered by health insurance; to live in a world where this surgery is available; to have a caring husband and supportive family to help through healing; and to have the possibility of full use of my right shoulder.

After I woke up from the general anesthesia (not pleasant, I assure you), I held on to emptiness: the emptiness of my pain (after all, wouldn't I gladly have this pain rather than see someone else suffer through it?); the idea that this pain was the first step towards regaining full use of my shoulder; the idea that this pain is nothing compared to what people all over the world suffer; the knowledge that this pain was nothing more than millions of sensations which, in and of themselves, were not so bad. This is not to say that the pain was not real, and that I did not sink into self-pity from time to time, but holding this small statue helped remind me of the bigger picture -- all I have to be grateful for, and all I have to look forward to.