A Visit With Chester
The following was written by Wolfram Arnold who visited with Chester this past Sunday. It really speaks to the experience of 'being with' Chester, not the medical stuff which is amazing, but sitting with him. Just imagine him eating sushi with me instead of melon, and its the same experience. But, in Wolfram's words:
Wolfram Arnold: Visit with Chester
I went to visit Chester at Herrick campus yesterday (Sunday). Chrys had mentioned that he loves fresh fruit, in particular melons. So I went to Berkeley Bowl, which was also a first for me, and picked up the best smelling melons to be found; in this case a so-called Crane Melon, along with a few other goodies, like raspberries, plums, peaches. This was my first visit to his Herrick room and my first awareness was the amount of natural light. I found Chester sitting in his room, writing! This picture was so beautiful that I had a sense of intrusion, alerting him to my arrival. He was happy to interrupt though and pleased to see me. I unpack the melon.
He smells it. And smells it. And smells it. It is a soft, sweet aroma. As he points out while we are eating it later, it is at the peak of ripeness which only lasts a few hours. Sun and earth. Not familiar with hospital etiquette, I was actually somewhat uncertain as to how and where to prepare it for eating. However, little need I worry, Chester has it all figured out. So we do the chores first. He leads me to the patients' refrigerator, the plastic containers contained therein, one of which needs its contents thrown out and to be cleaned. I cut the melon, he slices the soft pulp; we proceeds to enjoy it. It strikes me how agile and adaptive Chester is. Eating with the fingers is one option, a fork would be better, but none is available. He settles on a small plastic cup they use to dispense medication with, as scooper. If you can adapt, you can create.
He savors the fruit thoroughly. It feels like every bite is a new sensory explosion, a feeling of joy and gratitude. Two-thirds of the way through the melon, his enjoyment leads me in a rather impromptu way to pose a simple question, one that he has taught me so well: What are you aware of?He almost chokes on the bite he is about to swallow. I regret having brought about such a change in energy. Then he becomes serious, because little do I know, he has some deep insights to share. He notes that he can afford the space for some creative writing now. When he previously had to consider, re-consider before he could act; he now feels the hyper-vigilance of every single step can be relaxed a bit. While the guard cannot yet fully come down, it can be loosened. This creates space for him.
He speaks about help. How the "need to help" is power struggle, and is the default option. How true help is power-sharing. He speaks about choice, for himself and others; a choice between power struggle and presence. He speaks about the violation of his physical integrity; and about the resurgence of hope. He uses this term several times, resurgence of hope, and it is always accompanied by a gesture of his hand, moving from his abdomen to his heart, opening and rising outward from there. I ask him why power struggle is the default option. He replies, forcefully: Unconsciousness!
He proceeds: He used to love the "complicated mind;" fueled by incessant curiosity. And at the same time, the complicated mind produces a lot of chatter in the head, gears turning fast. Through his present situation, he has discovered what he calls the "simple mind." He says it has surprised him. The simple mind lets him feel joy and peace. I regret not taking notes while he was speaking; I'm fearful of omissions and misrepresentations of his words, his thoughts and message. And while I write, I realize it is my own complicated mind and its curiosity that desires this perfection. In my own interpretation, the simple mind is a state of organic assimilation of these wisdoms, free of need; expansive; peaceful.
Then another visitor, his friend Paul, wanders in. Chester relates a recent accomplishment that has him excited: Walking. No less! Saturday, the Occupational Therapist showed up at the same time as Jaime was about to leave. So, she suggested he walk Jaime to the door. And he did! She only grabbed the front and the back of his pants as safety measure. Then he proceeded on a self-directed stroll around the nurses' station under his own power and balance. Chester says he dreamed he could do it, and still it surprised him too. And at the same time, with all progress, for the first time, he also wondered whether the struggle it worth it.
More visitors show up, Pat and her friend (whose name I didn't catch-sorry). I prepare to leave. He thanks me for talking. I don't know what to say; I ask him if I can share it; he says he has a policy of total transparency-naked but honest. I bow to him; Chester takes his right hand, forms prayer hands, bows back. We part. My visit has left me in awe. Not only is he very much alive inside, his wisdoms and thoughts and teachings that I had already been an admiring student of seem to have been multiplied manifold. His I/O systems are in a state of re-expression and re-formulation. While this has him frustrated at times, he also responds to it with deep insights, marvel, adaptation and grace. This also seems to let him grasp what may be the purpose of this journey.
Wolfram Arnold: Visit with Chester
I went to visit Chester at Herrick campus yesterday (Sunday). Chrys had mentioned that he loves fresh fruit, in particular melons. So I went to Berkeley Bowl, which was also a first for me, and picked up the best smelling melons to be found; in this case a so-called Crane Melon, along with a few other goodies, like raspberries, plums, peaches. This was my first visit to his Herrick room and my first awareness was the amount of natural light. I found Chester sitting in his room, writing! This picture was so beautiful that I had a sense of intrusion, alerting him to my arrival. He was happy to interrupt though and pleased to see me. I unpack the melon.
He smells it. And smells it. And smells it. It is a soft, sweet aroma. As he points out while we are eating it later, it is at the peak of ripeness which only lasts a few hours. Sun and earth. Not familiar with hospital etiquette, I was actually somewhat uncertain as to how and where to prepare it for eating. However, little need I worry, Chester has it all figured out. So we do the chores first. He leads me to the patients' refrigerator, the plastic containers contained therein, one of which needs its contents thrown out and to be cleaned. I cut the melon, he slices the soft pulp; we proceeds to enjoy it. It strikes me how agile and adaptive Chester is. Eating with the fingers is one option, a fork would be better, but none is available. He settles on a small plastic cup they use to dispense medication with, as scooper. If you can adapt, you can create.
He savors the fruit thoroughly. It feels like every bite is a new sensory explosion, a feeling of joy and gratitude. Two-thirds of the way through the melon, his enjoyment leads me in a rather impromptu way to pose a simple question, one that he has taught me so well: What are you aware of?He almost chokes on the bite he is about to swallow. I regret having brought about such a change in energy. Then he becomes serious, because little do I know, he has some deep insights to share. He notes that he can afford the space for some creative writing now. When he previously had to consider, re-consider before he could act; he now feels the hyper-vigilance of every single step can be relaxed a bit. While the guard cannot yet fully come down, it can be loosened. This creates space for him.
He speaks about help. How the "need to help" is power struggle, and is the default option. How true help is power-sharing. He speaks about choice, for himself and others; a choice between power struggle and presence. He speaks about the violation of his physical integrity; and about the resurgence of hope. He uses this term several times, resurgence of hope, and it is always accompanied by a gesture of his hand, moving from his abdomen to his heart, opening and rising outward from there. I ask him why power struggle is the default option. He replies, forcefully: Unconsciousness!
He proceeds: He used to love the "complicated mind;" fueled by incessant curiosity. And at the same time, the complicated mind produces a lot of chatter in the head, gears turning fast. Through his present situation, he has discovered what he calls the "simple mind." He says it has surprised him. The simple mind lets him feel joy and peace. I regret not taking notes while he was speaking; I'm fearful of omissions and misrepresentations of his words, his thoughts and message. And while I write, I realize it is my own complicated mind and its curiosity that desires this perfection. In my own interpretation, the simple mind is a state of organic assimilation of these wisdoms, free of need; expansive; peaceful.
Then another visitor, his friend Paul, wanders in. Chester relates a recent accomplishment that has him excited: Walking. No less! Saturday, the Occupational Therapist showed up at the same time as Jaime was about to leave. So, she suggested he walk Jaime to the door. And he did! She only grabbed the front and the back of his pants as safety measure. Then he proceeded on a self-directed stroll around the nurses' station under his own power and balance. Chester says he dreamed he could do it, and still it surprised him too. And at the same time, with all progress, for the first time, he also wondered whether the struggle it worth it.
More visitors show up, Pat and her friend (whose name I didn't catch-sorry). I prepare to leave. He thanks me for talking. I don't know what to say; I ask him if I can share it; he says he has a policy of total transparency-naked but honest. I bow to him; Chester takes his right hand, forms prayer hands, bows back. We part. My visit has left me in awe. Not only is he very much alive inside, his wisdoms and thoughts and teachings that I had already been an admiring student of seem to have been multiplied manifold. His I/O systems are in a state of re-expression and re-formulation. While this has him frustrated at times, he also responds to it with deep insights, marvel, adaptation and grace. This also seems to let him grasp what may be the purpose of this journey.
posted by Marilyn at 8:46 PM
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