The calm before the storm seems to be real

You hear about it and read about it: that moment when all preparations are made, and everyone is bunkered down, awaiting the impending storm or the advancing army.

People say an odd calm descends. I feel that right now. I am hoping that the calm lasts a long time.

A storm is on the horizon—either the likely current diagnosis of PSP (truly a category 5 hurricane equivalent) or a slightly slower, potentially milder category 3-4 storm from the alternative of an aggressive form of Parkinson’s diagnosis that I was initially given 5 years ago.

With PSP, there’s no known way to stop it or run from it. Like a fast-approaching cyclone, you’re left relying on shoring up the house, protecting it as much as possible, and then praying.

Yet, as the films show, all is surprisingly calm.

I’ve made most of my preparations mentally and am constantly trying to work on myself physically. The basics are in place or in train: insurance policies, end-of-life requirements, and a host of other elements. I’m doing all I can to continue to shore up the house with daily yoga, walking, and regular treatments—physio, acupuncture, medicine for Parkinson’s (which has limited effect), supplements, and a personal trainer. I’m praying, and so are many others.

So why my calm? My current thoughts—and I can only speak for myself—center on focus and energy conservation, the work I have done to be ready, faith, and the fact that I am not unique.

Focus and Energy Conservation: My guess is that the non storm related ‘noise’ and stress that once filled my life—like a 12+ hour a day (my kids would argue 16 :-)) career with frequent flying and driving—have been pared back significantly. Driving has stopped entirely. I loved my career and driving, and I still love my residual interactions with clients. I miss them like the drug they were. But their very sudden virtual stop has, despite my fear, significantly reduced my stress and freed me to focus on what truly matters: my family and my health.  I enjoy more time with them now while making sure that they and I are prepared for the future. It is also starting to have a positive impact on my sleep, which has been the toughest thing (though it’s too early to call this one).

They were hugely important to me and my family and this still is a huge period of transition and adjustment for me. The above is very much a work in progress but I take comfort in a quote from Viktor Frankl, who said (after his time in three concentration camps, including Auschwitz), “When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves.”

Work I Have Put In: I don’t want this misunderstood—I have regrets and missed opportunities, and I look forward to a lot of life ahead. Yet I feel a quiet satisfaction as I almost reach the 50 milestone that I have had the fortune—and worked pretty hard—to be blessed with a great family and to have had the opportunity to provide for them up to now and for the future. I also feel hugely grateful and a little proud that I’ve been able to do so in a way that I hope has kept my integrity intact. I leave work without guilt or ethical qualms, though like many others, I’m sure there’s a lot I could have done better.

Faith: I don’t fully understand why I’ve been given these challenges but I totally believe there is a good reason albeit one I don’t understand. The challenges have felt like a heavy burden lately, but deep down, I believe they have a purpose—just like the approaching hurricane. I trust in G-d to lead me through this.

Not Unique: Many across the Jewish spectrum will be familiar with the famous Jewish song that traces back to the writings of Rav Nachman of Breslav: “”Kol H’olam Kulo” – “The whole entire world is a very narrow bridge, and the main thing is to have no fear at all.” Millions of Jews before me have been through a similar—and in many cases far worse—journey than I am going through. I am one more crossing the narrow bridge.

This calm is not a feeling I expected, but it’s real, at least for now. For me, there really is a true calm before the storm fully unleashes. I pray that the storm never comes and that, if it does, it is milder than expected and that I am able to weather it with dignity and continued calm.