Whispering of Willows 58

By Dr. Anna Zhao

Winter has arrived, but our garden hasn’t become desolate. Dr. Ali had put out plenty of organic birdseed, attracting many birds to enjoy a daily feast.

One day, we had already finished our work when a friend invited us to visit her husband, G, who was home from palliative care. The weather outside was damp and cold, and upon entering their solidary home, we felt even more chilled.

This is the first time we met G, who appeared pale and lifeless. When feeling his pulse, my fingertips felt like they were touching ice. Truly, before a lamp extinguishes, the flicker is lit by very little oil. As I gently massaged his abdomen, I heard him sigh softly, "The doctors said my days are numbered. Only 48 years old I am, how I wish I could live to be 50!"

I tried to comfort him, “Doctors are often pessimistic in order to not give any false hope; miracles do happen sometimes.”

His wife chimed in, “Over the past five years, he had already felt under the weather, so every year I kept urging him to get a checkup.”

He grunted in his swollen throat, “The doctors often said my health indicators were good, no big concerns.”

She gave a wry smile, “He only believes numbers. For years I’ve told him to go for a walk after dinner instead of immediately planting himself in front of his computer, but he didn’t believe me and still worked until the wee hours. It was only after reading an article by a prestigious medical doctor who taught that 10,000 steps a day is essential for maintaining health, he started to walk a bit. But it was too late…”

Her voice became more like a sob, and Dr. Daniel took her to another room to teach her how to perform moxibustion on her husband. G and I were left in the large room that seemed so empty and cold.

I held his hand and whispered, “We all can make mistakes at times, me too.”

“Unfortunately, it’s too late for me now. I can barely move a finger. I told my wife there’s no need to bother you guys to come to see me, because I know very well that I am beyond help.”

I hesitated and asked, “How about we see who can lend us a hand?”

A hint of amazement flashed across his weak face.

So I told him a short story.

“A little boy wanted to move a large rock in his yard. His father encouraged him, ‘Come on, son, if you pool all of your resources, I believe you can do it!’ But the rock was too heavy. The boy tried again and again, but still to no avail. He cried, ‘Oh, dad, this rock is too heavy! I used all my strength but it didn’t budge at all!’ The father smiled and said, ‘But my dear boy, you didn't really try your best though.’ The little boy looked up at his father in confusion, only to see him smiling and saying, ‘I'm standing right next to you. Why didn't you think to ask for my help?’"

Attentively G listened to the story, and then sighed softly: "Dr. Zhao, you're not suggesting I convert to a particular religion at this time, are you?"

"No, I just wanted to say that perhaps you could borrow the power of the sky and earth."

“The power of the sky and earth?” he echoed my words, “but how?”

“Through Qigong - visualization and imagination. Your illness is mainly due to a serious malfunction in your endocrine and metabolic systems. By doing some Qigong, visualization, or prayer, it might be beneficial for you. It can't hurt, can it?”

He shook his head. “I'm a well-educated person and have an analytical mind. I only believe in science. I'll gladly try anything that has been scientifically verified. Although it is ancient, even acupuncture is not fully endorsed by all of science. Qigong, visualization, imagination, praying? I've heard of all of above, but unfortunately, I have doubts, as well as very little time left to investigate their effectiveness.”

At a loss about what to say or do next, as he dismissed most of what could give him some relief, I stood beside his bed. We taught his wife some moxibustion techniques, then said goodbye and left.

Christmas was around the corner, and everywhere was brimming a joyous festive atmosphere. Many colorful lights were hanging from the trees in front of and behind their homes. The soft light, along with the newly decorated Christmas trees, Santa Claus, snowmen, and reindeer, were all shrouded in the rain and mist, signalling the possibilities inherent even in the dead of winter, lights dancing in the darkness.

I later said to Dr. Daniel, “So much of what is great in life, like holiday spirit, is unscientific. Neither can love be measured scientifically. If we relied solely on scientific verification, what beautiful things might we miss?”

He replied, "If I were G's wife, I would light a big, warm fireplace at home, with golden flames crackling and leaping. I would let the aroma of delicious food waft out of the kitchen, and let him partake of whatever interested him, surrounded by beautiful music ringing throughout the house. If they had children, I would bring them home, letting them laugh, giggle, and play, rocking the house with coziness and merry energy. That would do him some good for sure."

“That’s what I think too,” I agreed. “I would also hang his treasured photos in his room and put his favorite plants around his bed.  Then, on the wall directly facing him, I would hang a picture of the sunrise so that he can contemplate it every day. Thus, stimulating his yang energy and vitality.”

Dr. Daniel continued, "In the eyes of many people, life is just the physical body they see. They don't realize that life is actually much broader. It permeates all things between the sky and earth. This includes all those things familiar to us: thoughts, feelings, sounds, colors, light, smells, and so on. All of those things are all immersed in life energy. If we ignore them, there is no doubt why we can be left with nothing but an empty shell."

“That’s why I told G to learn to leverage external forces,” I went on, “but I doubt he’ll actually do it, because leveraging external forces isn’t scientific enough. In fact, there are countless streams of life flowing towards us from all sides. When we become aware of these energies, they become ours. When we’re not aware of them, they’re not accessed by us. Meditation is about training our bodies to actively merge with these energies of the universe.”

My patient C was recently diagnosed with a serious illness. When she came to see me one day, she looked utterly dejected. After her treatment was long finished, she didn't want to leave, but silently watched a hummingbird flying in the yard. The bird was stretching out its slender beak to suck up the sugar water from the feeder, its gossamer-like feathers quivering in the wind, its pink neck shimmering like raindrops.

"It's so cold and wet out there, but these hummingbirds don't seem to have all migrated somewhere warmer," I said.

“Hmm,” C stared intently at it, “I wonder how such a tiny little bird can have so much vitality in itself?” She murmured, as if to herself, “Every time I see them, I feel both delighted and bewildered.”

“That’s because they’re good at acquiring energy from many sources,” I giggled, “such as from the sky and the earth.”

I smiled, because I remembered a poem I had once written:

Repay

Hummingbird I am,

quiet and timid

drinking nectar from flowers with ease

then flapping wings, I take off

so no one can find any trace.

Oh Stranger, you laugh at my greediness

for I seem to take and not give.

But do you see

before the dawn

I perch on a small dark twig

and softly, affectionately

sing all my love

to my benefactors—Heaven and Earth?