Mind body connection

The pain was lodged firmly in the lower back, a band about 6 inches wide across the base of my spine, all the way from left hip to right hip. I could not think of any physical activity that I could have done to set this off. It was a diffuse area that remained painful for 10 days, starting from two days before my father's death and continued for the days of emotional rituals that my brothers performed while I witnessed their actions and my response to these acts which formed our final goodbye to our father. I probably took one tablet for the pain in this time, aware that the pain was caused by something inexplicable. I also knew for sure that the pain would go away in due course.

I know people who came down with extreme physical symptoms immediately after loss of a parent. The medical condition could not be diagnosed and usually disappeared as mysteriously as it had appeared. In my case, the pain subsided. But two weeks later, when I returned to Hyderabad, I felt drained. Empty. Listless. I had no motivation to get the day started. My fridge was empty. My cooking was insipid. My energy levels were at an all time low. I could not get into my daily routine of morning yoga or evening walk. I read sporadically. I refused lucrative projects at work, aware that I would not be able to do justice to it. My reflexes while driving were very lethargic. In short, I was just not myself.

Even now, more than a month later, I find myself tired. There are shooting pains that criss-cross my back, stopping me in my tracks. I still can't find joy in cooking. Perhaps the hardest task has been to focus on my music class. For two consecutive weeks, I kept struggling to learn a new raag, something that I usually grasp easily. This week has been better. I am able to sit still for pranayama if not yoga. I completed reading a novel. I am able to meditate for short periods of time. I am able to make conversation with ease.

It has been a time of great change and learning. I have been surprised by this strong mind-body connect, this situation where I can see my body harboring emotions and struggling to let go, to balance itself, and reorient to a new reality. The pent-up grief is a tangible ball of pain that moves around, reminding me constantly of my attachment. The lack of energy shows how essential it is to build reserves of mental strength that can be deployed in such situations to overcome physical limitations but how the body gives up when the reserves dwindle. It is a time for grieving but for rebuilding as well. The only way for me to regain my physical stamina is to build core mental strength. Like most important things in life, it will be built slowly, as time works its unfailing magic and heals. I can speed it up by filling it with things that add meaning to my life - my work, my reading/writing, music, being with family and most of all, finding peace within myself.

As they say, pain is inevitable but suffering is optional.