Whispering of Willows 44

It's not even August, yet many tomatoes in our garden are already ripening. Pears and apples are in great abundance this year, but the plum trees have hardly borne any fruit. Dr. Ali is such a sharp-eyed man that one day he discovered three golden plums under layers of leaves! He held them in front of us, triumphantly, as if they were treasures, one for each of us. We clinked our plums together like for a toast, and then ate them without washing them. This scene touched me deeply, as if it wasn't three doctors toasting together, but three gardeners celebrating their great harvest.

This month is indeed a month of abundance. C brought us a large box of fresh blackberries, and yesterday a little girl brought us two boxes of freshly picked blueberries. Ten days ago, we held a seminar in our clinic, inviting nearly twenty doctors and health practitioners. Each of them provided so much knowledge and wisdom. J even brought us some rare herbal seedlings ...

In the summer, most people go on vacation, so our clinic is relatively quiet. Having time for reflection, I have begun to notice differences between Dr. Daniel’s clients and mine. Many of the patients who come to see me are more or less a beautiful form of eccentric, and those who are relatively "normal" prefer to see Dr. Daniel. Dr. Daniel seldom talks when doing treatments; he told me that his hands are more like his mouth. As long as his hands are massaging people, the other party can often hear his message and feel his energy. What a master!

The people who like to come to see me lately have been beautifully different. In what way? For example, this patient did not come to see me on this day; his lovely wife came. As soon as she sat down, she told me her husband had asked her to bring a haiku he wrote:

The Yin and Yang

May not always be balanced

But rather a pendulum

Just swinging back and forth 

This reminds me of the ancient Chinese literati who regularly gave poems to one another as gifts, which is very interesting.

I wrote a related poem previously:

Thoughts from Whispering Willows

on the left, Yin; on the right, Yang

a bridge in between

upon which sits Light

rays gleaming, quietly

this side, Life; that side, Death

a wall in between

upon which rests the soul

fingers calculating time, mischievously

Another eccentric young man, who had few physical problems came to see me. When I asked him what was his primary concern, he said: “I am thinking about the poem you wrote…”

When I gave him acupuncture and cupping, he rarely reacted, but as long as I talked about life, philosophy, Zhuangzi and Laozi, his eyes lit up like lanterns.

I didn't expect that the short poem I wrote last time would attract so many comments. Many people said it was a bit too dark, while some said it was profound, and a few said it was playful... A concerned patient asked me: “It sounds rather dark, is everything okay, Dr. Anna? I am a little worried...”

Worried about what? Because my poem mentioned the word "death"? The concept of death is often taboo in Eastern culture, but obviously, Westerners are not comfortable with it either. However, life is transient, unpredictable and time-limited. If you don't consider death, how can you live freely and consciously?

One night, we were called to a hospital to treat a patient with advanced cancer. She was already in palliative care. Dr. Daniel and I were quite busy in the clinic all day and were very tired, but we decided to see if there was anything we could do for her.

We arrived there about 8:30 in the evening, and it was super quiet on the ward. We hadn't met this patient before; she was a referral from a friend. Before entering the room, I imagined a weak, skinny, sickly person lying in bed, unable to even open her eyes. Unexpectedly, the middle-aged lady standing at the door greeting us with a big smile was her. She looked energetic, pleasant, humorous, and with no hint of being closer to dying.

I gave her acupuncture and Dr. Daniel gave her a gentle massage. Traditional teachings say for the seriously ill person, the feet have the most unhealthy energy, but Dr. Daniel started massaging her feet immediately, without even wearing gloves.

As we worked, the patient joked, laughing, shaking her head at the same time: "I am a good girl, very disciplined, eat healthy, exercise regularly, a happy family... I am doing well in everything, yet I still got this damn cancer. The doctors said that the chance of getting this kind of cancer is very, very slim, but why did I get it? And it's such an aggressive kind? Life is really unfair…"

"Yes, life is not always fair," I agreed and smiled.

While doing some Qigong and visualization with her, the senior lady in the next bed peeked at us, grinning, so I invited her to join us for meditation.

After treating our patient, we gave the senior lady a quick herbal massage too. She held my hand and asked, "I will go to hospice soon. Will you still come to see me?"

Both Dr. Daniel and I nodded. I added, "I will also bring a bucket with herbal medicine to soak your feet, help you with the edema."

I am not sure how much we helped them, but when we left, everyone in the room had a genuine and peaceful smile on their face, and I could clearly see fear replaced by fondness in their eyes.

I usually go to bed at nine o'clock, but that night, I didn't sleep until midnight. When I closed my eyes, what jumped into my mind was not death, but two verses from Tagore's poems:

“Let life be beautiful like summer flowers and death like autumn leaves. ”

“The world has kissed my soul with its pain, asking for its return in songs”.