Last week I had my first of two cataract replacement surgeries. The procedure itself was short, painless and barely remembered. The preparations before the procedure, and the planning and care after the procedure take more thought, planning, and time. I’m intrigued by the subtle changes I notice in myself post-surgery. And I don’t mean in my eye sight only. Of course, that has changed and can be taken as a metaphor for the whole shifting experience.
Last week, prior to the procedure, I was apprehensive and a little nervous. I wasn’t sure how the actual surgery would go, how I would handle it, and how well or not I had prepared for it. I worked hard to get my home ready so that I would have a minimum of bending over to do (no bending below the waist for a week). I made arrangements for my two dogs to be walked twice a day (no lifting (or tugging on a leash) more than 10 to 15 pounds for a week). I cooked and froze entrees so that I would have less cooking to do. I laundered and put away linens and clothing. I bought groceries and dog food to last at least a week, so no heavy lifting. Phew! All this preparation felt like watching a large wave coming toward shore while I am on my tiptoes in the water, anticipating and preparing to spring up and meet the wave.
The day for surgery arrives, my designated driver and attendant arrives, we travel to the hospital and to the same-day-surgery area. This is it! Now, to just do one’s best…
And as I wrote above, the time in the surgery area and the actual procedure were quick and quite easy. Unexpectedly pleasant even! I felt coddled and pampered and warmed. When I go for the procedure on my other eye in a week and a half, I will enjoy myself more, and be less anxious.
And home again after, I spend time resting, keeping track of the dog walks, figuring out my altered schedule, reminding myself not to stoop over or lift too much, and maintaining my schedule of eye-care. I also let go of concern about snow or mud tracked into the house, or exactly what time the dogs go out. I host my dog-minder and her partner in a simple ad-hoc, potluck meal. I play life by ear.
That is the shift. From planning to playing, from stressing to allowing, from tensing to letting go. I suppose that there will always be times of more stress, preparation, anxiety even. The lesson for me is to be more aware of my internal state. Is this situation or set of circumstances worthy of the energy and effort I am expending? And, will I hear or see when it’s timely and wise to play life by ear and let go? My new, improved physical vision can be a metaphor for improved inner vision.