Day 39 Night - Liver Biopsy Past and a Certain Circumstance of Taking Joy in Another's Success

My liver biopsy took place two days ago, and it wasn't the end of the world or even close. It was strange and uncomfortable and painful in places your mind tells you that you should not be experiencing pain, but it is past. I could go into the semi-gory details, but what's the point? The most uncanny moment is when you hear the metallic click inside your body of the metal clipper needle snapping off a miniscule piece of your liver. The fact that they have to do it twice is a bit unnerving. I closed my eyes so I would not see what was happening because I was awake with only a local anesthetic.

You realize as it is happening that your body truly is a sacred vessel that should not be invaded by anything foreign. When I consider all of the foreign crap I have put into my body over the years, I shake my head, take a deep breath and let the regrets pass over me and vanish into the framework of the night. I am powerless over regrets because I cannot change the past so what is the point of having them. I laugh when I think of the old nineties T-shirt — "My body is a sacred temple sinking slowly into ruins." It's funny because every image that I find on Google images of the body as a sacred temple, using various word combinations, is goofy and unsatisfactory. It's all either New Age crap or Science Fiction mumbo-jumbo or just plain silliness. Nothing that reflects the deep spirituality and the connection within and without as our physical form expresses the journey of the soul. This is as close as I got to even liking an image, and it still echoes of universal grandiosity of man as the center of everything.

I like this image and dislike it at the same moment in time...

This is how I described my liver biopsy on Facebook... John Lavitt really does not recommend to any of his friends or even enemies (not really enemies, just the disgruntled avoiding bunch) getting a liver biopsy. You are fully awake, and it feels like getting kicked by a horse inside of your body. It freezes that moment when after the first pain of the kick when your breath vanished and you wheeze with the recognition that the next wave of deep dull, almost uncanny, ache cannot be stopped.

And now for something completely different (a reference by the way to a somewhat forgotten Monty Python film). When you are walking a spiritual path, you often don't see the changes that have happened in your being and your way of interacting with the world. I have noticed consistently that other people are aware of the changes before you even recognize them. When they tell you how you have evolved, you can understand what they are saying and realize that it's true and intellectually agree with them, but you do not feel the change on a primal level. It does not flow through your veins and swirl in your soul. What is amazing is when you have a moment when the change hits you on a visceral level and you are truly able to experience your own growth and spiritual evolution. A prime example...

Reza Safai in the Independent Film, Circumstance 

It's funny because I meant to write about this last week, but like so many things, it got caught in the crossfire and slipped away from me. Last Saturday, I saw the opening of my friend Reza Safai's film Circumstance at the ArcLight Hollywood. Reza is the male star of the film, and Circumstance was written and directed by the brilliant Maryam Keshavarz.  It centers on a wealthy Iranian family that struggles to contain a teenager’s growing sexual rebellion and her brother’s dangerous obsession as it navigates the dangerous waters between forbidden love and extreme religious orthodoxy. The film was beautiful and precise and an inspiration to watch. Written in Farsi, the director and all the leads come from Iranian families that go back and forth to Iran. They all have extended family still in the country. 


What is so powerful is that they had to make such an extreme choice in order to make the film. By making a film that is critical of the morals and politics of the current regime, the artists knowingly made the choice to never return to their homeland. Although most were born in the states, they are Iranian, and they identify with the history and traditions of Persian culture and society. Think about it! We often discuss what an artist sacrifices in order to create their art? Could you make such an extreme sacrifice? Could you choose to separate yourself from your land because of the necessity of expressing what you believe in your heart and your soul? Tough questions, and brave answers by these artists. No wonder the film won the Audience Award at the Sundance Film Festival in 2011.

But I am not writing a movie review. What I loved about the experience is how I was able to take such joy in the success of my friend without feeling even the slightest tinge of envy or jealousy. I truly have come to believe that the success of others never diminishes me in any way, and if everyone realized their dreams of success and creative vision, the world would be a much better place. I no longer feel the need, except when I relapse here and there on my character defects, to compare myself to other people. Being able to relish and savor the success of Reza, knowing how hard he worked and how much he believed in the film, came so naturally that it did not even occur to me until I was driving home that I had felt nothing negative the entire night. I mean, Reza worked for two years with a dialect coach to perfect the specific Farsi accent spoken in a certain upper class neighborhood. The fact that his work paid off in such amazing ways and led to his part in a beautiful film is how the world should work. 

There is such freedom in the process of letting go of the basic seven deadly sins. They are sins not necessarily because they are evil, but because they weigh us down with the burden of fear and prevent us from walking in the comfort of faith. When I can find joy in the successes of my fellow human beings without feeling envious or jealous, I am able to experience the world as it should be — present, loving, and supportive.