A few thoughts on dealing with on-going pain and fatigue-
Most people have some association, memory, or image that is a comfort and connects us to a calmer better time. It can be a gymnastic trick of the mind to make a quiet space in the day and bring in this idea with a deliberate focus with the intention of leaving now to feel another time. For some people this is a memory of the grandmother or the daydream of a special trip or a first love, lots of choices.
Lungs in particular often need the rest of great trust so whatever brings you a greater sense of trust can help you breath easier and rest more deeply.
On going pain is famous for lessening creative thought so don’t ask too much of yourself in the way sorting out all your own stuff, life is too hard.
Delight is a particular quality that has to do with watching for ways to love life. In whatever way you find yourself delighted this can be a way to have reality beyond pain.
As for fatigue and rest here’s my main idea- always lay down just before you get tired. And when we get bored with being still try this- lie in bed with sunglasses on, see yourself on the QE2, a lovely lounge chair on a sunny deck, Italy or Spain is nearby, and the only thing you can focus on is what you will reply when that very good looking Swedish stewardess comes along to ask, “What would you like for dessert?”
When pain is in one area, have some good stimulus in another area- for a headache, have a foot massage or hot soapy footbath. Also see about caring for this pain as one would respond kindly to a whiny child, surround it with embrace, mercy, and care to counter the accumulation of tension.
I cannot over emphasis the use of good old fashion grief to make space. So whether it’s the weepy movie that lets the sadness rip or the tantrum we throw at realizing our losses- all of it can make space for the next part of the day to receive beauty and care.
For some people it helps to have the simplest picture of what’s happening in the body- such as would be explained to a young person- Kaposi sarcoma can be described as the blood vessels opening up guest rooms and really they are usually just hallways.
Fear should be stated clearly to our most trusted loved ones. I’ve always thought there should be at least one tough old leather dyke in every emergency room, someone who could hear any horror calmly and look over while flicking the ashes off her cigar and say, “I know, ain’t it hell?” This helps us not to carry the fear unspoken, which is heavier.
Second serious illnesses can be more difficult. Sometimes there is the idea that we don’t deserve second reprieves. Of course we deserve it, but we need to say this out loud.
And the only other thing I can think of right now is that there really is very little of this that one does alone. Most of the ride we get to do with others but we must remind each other of this.
PS One more vital idea- Humor
Laughing even a little makes space in the body, thoughts, and emotional life so we can have space for the truth, the pain, the goodness.
For instance the other morning….
Marshall arises after first light, before dawn and tip toes to the window looking out over the field. He very quietly whispers, “There’s two deer grazing in the field, a doe and fawn. How sweet and graceful. They are completely without fear and now the little one is nursing.” He watches them and in the softest voice reports their movements. Then suddenly he’s yelling, “HEY! GET AWAY FROM THE BLUEBERRIES!!!!!!!”
Here’s the original interview I sent to Piedmont PFLAG. Their much shorter edit is in the newsletter. Thought you’d enjoy the spicy uncut version.
In other news from Putney- I found a rather large snakeskin in the green house- oh dear. We celebrated Marshall’s Bastille Day birthday with a fabulous French-Cuban meal at Chez Henri’s in Cambridge MA. I worked in another church recently and can only say how very happy I am to be a Quaker in the left wing of gayness. Hope this finds us all mining the Light and enjoying summer. Love John
In the Light PFLAG interview with John Calvi (April 2002)
John Calvi is seated by a window overlooking a south sloping meadow. The little house he and his husband, Marshall Brewer, share in Vermont is chilly on this April morning. John’s hair is brown, gray, curly and a bit messy. His round face looks a bit tired. Maybe it’s jetlag from a recent trip to England or from carrying firewood- winter in Vermont can be long. In a still moment, it seems he could use some time to stare out the window and think of nothing in particular. But as soon as he’s asked a question, his blue eyes sparkle and there’s a shift in energy and attention that is somewhere between charming and scary.
Why were you and Marshall naked when you met?
We met at the local gay swimming hole. There’s a certain lack of clothing there that insures the long walk through the woods will be worth your time. It was a beautiful summer’s day, the last warm day of summer in 1986. I had nearly become a resident sun worshipper and Marshall was there for the first time.
Was it love at first sight?
Well, more like four looks and three dates really. I’d gotten very tired from work in the AIDS epidemic and thought I was too emotionally exhausted to recognize true love. But Marshall was (and is) so sweet and fun that my heart was engaged very soon.
What work were you doing in the AIDS epidemic?
I began offering massage to anyone with AIDS in 1983 whether or not they could pay. So many men were dying so quickly that the massage was nearly all hospice work back then. When I got very tired, I took some time out to learn how I could do the work and not burnout. So then along with doing massage, I was offering to teach massage and ideas about avoiding burnout.
Was this the beginning of your trauma work?
No, I did a few years work with women who had survived sexual assault before I really got into AIDS work. I’d been a Montessori teacher with young children for 10 years. I found I could take what I knew about calm and quiet for a classroom and move it into a massage session. A good person in a safe space doing compassionate work on the terribly wounded became my goal and a life work.
So you are drawn to pain and trouble then?
No, not at all. I’d be perfectly happy for there to be no pain in anyone and sit here and look out this window until I was 100 years old. What I’m drawn to is trust, addicted really. It’s helping the very wounded who doubt they can ever trust, relax, or be happy again and finding a way to contact their hope which fascinates and thrills me. To have an oasis sneak up on you just when you’re sure that life is one big mud sandwich without enough bread, well that’s a delight to be part of.
So you are the oasis?
No, I help shape the package some and make the best delivery I can. But the real goodness that comes of the work is from a spiritual source, not me.
And what did you say when Marshall asked what you did?
I thought, “best not to scare him on the first date” so I asked him what he did. He was just finishing a masters degree in intercultural management and cross-cultural orientation with the School for International Training. He’s lived all over Europe, spoke German and Swedish and owned more clogs than a dance club.
How did you let him know about your work?
After we’d been together a while and decided we had to spend the rest of our lives together, he said, “teach me something about massage.” I said, “Feel this knot in my back? Put your palms flat there, take a deep breath, and think about how much you love me.” Well, that knot just disappeared and his jaw dropped and I said, “That’s something about massage.”
When did you know you had a gift to release pain from trauma?
Slowly over the first few years I noticed that I didn’t have any of the usual spa work- no tennis elbow, no diamond ring finger fatigue, no face lift cases. Every one who came to me without exception had been beaten, raped, shot, stabbed, blown up by a bomb or were dying. That was a clue.
Also my massage changed into a very slow dance and then became primarily energy work, a gentle laying-on-of-hands. I found I could move physical or emotional pain without a full body massage. This meant I could help more people.
So you can heal every one who comes to you?
Never. Some folks I can help very much and some not at all. Because it’s a spiritual work, I’m not in charge of outcomes. My job is to be well rested, open to guidance, and willing to witness great pain.
What’s the greatest pain you’ve ever witnessed?
I don’t repeat those stories. But I can tell you that I believe all pain can be healed. Maybe not by me, maybe not today, and maybe not in the way you imagine. It’s always a wonderful surprise to find that some large wound doesn’t hurt as much as it did or can be lived with more easily or doesn’t have to run your life. That’s a blessing when it happens.
Did you feel brave when you worked in prisons or with tortured refugees?
No, I was scared to death. I am a true coward. But the light guiding me was so bright, I had to go and the work was wonderful.
What really scared me was sitting in the Vermont statehouse during our Civil Union debates and hearing how much hatred some folks had for gay people. That was truly scary. Some fairly normal looking people claiming to be Christian talked about gay people like we had caused war, oil spills, inflation, and bad hair days for the whole planet. Some claimed Civil Unions would bring earthquakes and famine. The threats to government officials brought in more state police to our little capitol then we’d ever seen before. Concentration camps were clearly within their plans for us. They had no idea that the real gay agenda is to be treated fairly and get the beach each summer for more days than last year.
And in the end, it was these radical right-wingers that caused equal rights to win. There was a large group in the middle who wasn’t sure what was fair but they knew they didn’t agree with the whole idea of Christian hate. Of course Vermont is a small state with a little over half a million people. So people tend to know their neighbors. And they tend to know Eva down the road is a lesbian but the real question is whether she’s a good neighbor- didn’t she help with the rescue squad and does she let her dog bother the neighborhood. So we have a Civil Union law giving gay couples all the Vermont state law benefits and responsibilities of marriage. People are still working to remove that law.
Was it exciting to have a Civil Union?
Nope. It was like getting a fishing license. Marshall and I had been together for 3 years when we were married by our Quaker Meeting in 1989. It was a beautiful wedding. By the time we’d done some of the political and educational work to help make Civil Unions a reality, we’d been together 14 years. The law itself was thrilling. I am so proud to live where there is such progress and of all the people who worked so hard to make it happen. I think it’s a model of the best democracy has to offer.
Do you think of yourself as a Christian healer?
I think of myself as a Quaker healer. I’ve worked this ministry supported by Quakers, like Willie & Agnes Frye, for 20 years. I’ve had visits from Jesus when working with tortured refugees from El Salvador and visits from Buddha when working tortured refugees from Cambodia. So I don’t want to argue theology so much as be grateful that I have a wonderful life work.
What’s the hard part in this work for you?
You mean parts? Well, first it was very difficult to learn the disciplines of resting enough. And to make my compassionate work pragmatic- set limits, love life, and stay honest about my own pain. Then there is the whole issue of living on gifts. I decided early on that I’d accept donations so I could work on people who couldn’t pay. Most of my income is donation and most of the people I work on don’t pay me. I am not very good at suspense and there is a lot of suspense living on gifts. It’s a great spiritual discipline of living through grace- someone sees my work, understands that it’s important, and sends a gift. It’s not at all the way the world works but it’s how I’ve been living since 1984.
Are there other things we should know about you?
Yes.
-I do know how to yodel just a bit.
-I wrote The Ones Who Aren’t Here (recorded by Meg Christian at Carnegie Hall and also on Suede’s first album) when I was thrown out of my family for being gay.
-I think George Bush is embarrassing.
-French Fries are my basic food group.
-I love being gay.
-I firmly believe that to be boring is a major sin.
-Marshall is a very fine cook and I do a passable job at laundry.
-I make about 20 trips around the country to teach each year and should have a website by summer.
-We have a compost toilet.
-I was a Montessori teacher for 10 years.
-I am celebrating turning 50 and doing this work for 20 years and will do this work without retiring until I die or the gift leaves me.
One last question- when you were teaching at the Guilford College conference on Quakers and Sexuality this Spring you talked about common traits of sex and spirituality. Do you really believe they are linked?
I was going to call my speech, “God is a Top” but Marshall talked me out of that. Mainly I wanted to present the idea that surrender is a difficult concept for many of us. But if you can learn surrender, using the strength of trust then it can be used to make your spiritual life, your love life, and your sex life better. If you learn it in one part of life then you can transfer that wisdom to another part of life and make your life more round, smoother, with more balance. Thanks for asking.