Nine of us were at The Mended Hearts meeting at the Taylor House in Flagstaff this morning. Being skittish of joining any group (I follow Grouch Marx's advice of "I wouldn't join any group that would have me for a member"), I was ready to buck and run. Good people. Older as you might expect. But lively.
Strong assent was given to the body's feeling of betrayal and other subtle and not so subtle responses to having your chest cracked open, your heart messed with, and machinery lodged inside your body. All eight understood exactly where I was coming from. Why? Because they themselves had been through it.
No one gave me any "there, there's" or attempted consolation, for which I was grateful. No one told me to buck up and live with it. No one hinted that I had to be a good Buddhist or a good Christian or a good whatever. They just listened, heard, and understood. I heard their heart-scarred journeys too. Each one was different, yet told with simple directness.
We had some laughs about some doctors' insistence that we follow their way and not our own way. Glad I'm not alone there. Stubborn survivors not easily fooled.
They meet only every other third Saturday. But I have some names and phone numbers of some vibrant real people and an invitation to give a call. Plenty enough for me.
Strong assent was given to the body's feeling of betrayal and other subtle and not so subtle responses to having your chest cracked open, your heart messed with, and machinery lodged inside your body. All eight understood exactly where I was coming from. Why? Because they themselves had been through it.
No one gave me any "there, there's" or attempted consolation, for which I was grateful. No one told me to buck up and live with it. No one hinted that I had to be a good Buddhist or a good Christian or a good whatever. They just listened, heard, and understood. I heard their heart-scarred journeys too. Each one was different, yet told with simple directness.
We had some laughs about some doctors' insistence that we follow their way and not our own way. Glad I'm not alone there. Stubborn survivors not easily fooled.
They meet only every other third Saturday. But I have some names and phone numbers of some vibrant real people and an invitation to give a call. Plenty enough for me.
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