en·dur·ance
inˈd(y)o͝orəns
noun
The fact or power of enduring an unpleasant or difficult process or
situation without giving way.
"She was close to the limit of her endurance" (Italics mine)
When I was
studying Philosophy at UBC in my early 20s, I took a Russian Lit course as an
elective. The gnomish professor, Dr Futrell, would go on to introduce me to
Buddhism (and my boyfriend at the time to the principles of Tantric sex!).
In class, we
read Solzhenitsyn and I learned of his
“writing”, while imprisoned in the Gulag, by imagining, memorizing line by
line, each day reciting, in his head, from the beginning of the story…
He possessed sufficient endurance to
overcome the deadly situation that had befallen him. A writer without pen and paper, he
stayed alive by composing the story in his head.
The Gulag was not a challenge he had
chosen. So, my early-20-something year old self asked my prof, how does one
achieve Solzhenitsyn’s “overcoming”, his endurance, without being forced by
circumstances? You chose to take the
difficult path, he replied, as for example Buddhists in letting go of ego, of
desires, etc …
It was then that I saw certain challenges
as either chosen (and thus for the Glory of their notable accomplishment beyond
the everyday-ness of life) or as challenges not chosen but imposed by
circumstances (the Gulag). Admittedly a Buddhist wouldn’t use the term “glory”.
Seeking Nirvana is nonetheless a
choice to go beyond ordinary daily living. It is an exceptional path.
Endurance is necessary for both these
types of challenge.
Cycling Vancouver to Montreal in 41 days during the late spring of 1985 was a challenge undertaken for, amongst others things, the “glory” of saying “I did that!” The physical and emotional endurance required, the motivation to keep going, was easily found because it was a chosen challenge. (The endorphins helped…) This in spite of:
Cycling Vancouver to Montreal in 41 days during the late spring of 1985 was a challenge undertaken for, amongst others things, the “glory” of saying “I did that!” The physical and emotional endurance required, the motivation to keep going, was easily found because it was a chosen challenge. (The endorphins helped…) This in spite of:
- damaged knee ligaments;
- a foot of Rocky Mtn snow outside our tent and still needing to pee in the -10C night;
- a young moose on our side of the road making eye contact;
- a bale of hay leaving the back of a pickup at 120 km/h and hitting the pavement a few metres in front of me;
- tornado rain 200 kms north of the eye of the storm forcing even cars off the road;
- endless loaves of peanut butter and banana sandwiches;
- my friend’s terrible singing voice and very limited repertoire (how many times in a row can one sing Jerimiah was a Bullfrog?).
Before I had Parkinson’s, recalling that
trip (its glory) often served to re-enforce my confidence in my ability to
achieve much more than I had been lead to believe that I could. My mother
actually bet me the $300 I owed her
in long distance phone bills (pre-internet, it wasn’t cheap to break up with
someone in England while one was in Vancouver) that I would not make it to Montreal!
Parkinson’s changed all that: reduced
motivation is a symptom of the disease itself. Reduced dopamine = reduced
motivation. And the range of the challenges of my life have become rigidly circumscribed.
The challenge of living with PD, the
endurance demanded of me, is far too often limited to getting through the day. I endure pain
not to reach the summit of Roger’s Pass, but merely to make lunch. Performing the tasks of daily life, of
independent living, brings no glory, no sense of accomplishment. Particularly as
I am not cycling 160 kms/ day while performing those tasks!
Parkinson’s is my personal Gulag. And I
am not Solzhenitsyn.
In writing as he did while in the Gulag, Solzhenitsyn
also achieved Glory. The extremity of his accomplishments and of the
circumstances under which he achieved them renders my life today too
insignificant.
And I, a blogger without 2 working hands with which to type: ever
determined; I have to find my inner Solzhenitsyn.
