📿 About This Thing on my Thigh…

Misperception, meditation and commentary on the Vipallasa Sutta

IMAGE ID: It’s Autumn and my shadow is 20 feet tall. Just another optical illusion.

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Hello you — Adreanna here with this week’s dispatch of The Laundry.

I have a blood blister, black and slightly larger than a sesame seed, that’s taken up residence on my left thigh.

It’s been unchanged for nearly a month, and yet every morning after I shower I inspect it again, just to make sure it isn’t a tick. I prop my left foot on the shower basin, squeeze the skin of my thigh, squint and lean in close. It isn’t a tick. Of course it isn’t a tick. But then again… what if it was? I’ve developed a daily routine of hyper vigilance just to make sure that I’m SURE.

What I’m actually looking for when I squeeze my thigh is reassurance that I don’t have Lyme Disease. More specifically, I’m seeking reassurance that my life is not functionally over BECAUSE I have Lyme Disease. Look, I watched the Bikini Kill documentary. If an energetic icon like Kathleen Hannah can be leveled by the bite of a tick, then my already tender, tired body doesn’t stand a chance. Lyme is notoriously hard to diagnose, does systemic damage to those infected, and here in the Hudson Valley, we just happen to live in an epicenter.

Each time I look at my blood blister, this is what I’m actually looking for — evidence to disprove the worst case scenario, which I’ve already jumped to in my mind. I catch sight of something small and black on my skin, and mentally I’m on my death bed. So long, world. It was really nice knowing you. 

There’s a classic Buddhist practice parable that I’ve been contemplating this week, which points to this very thing: