Ornoth

It’s been five months since my stroke, and four months since my last blogpo about it. But Friday was another big milestone, and well worth another update.

It’s been a long road getting here. My stroke required a four-day hospital stay, and since my discharge, I’ve:

The Amplatzer Talisman Patent Foramen Ovale Occluder!!!

• Visited my PCP twice and consulted with him online once
• Visited my cardiologist twice
• Visited my neurologist once
• Visited my hematologist once
• Had two lab blood draws and work-ups
• Wore a heart monitoring device for a month
• Consulted with a nutritionist three times
• Had my cardiologist perform an in-hospital procedure called a “TEE test” where a camera was sent down my esophagus to observe the condition of my heart
• Had an in-hospital radiologist perform an ultrasound to examine my legs for evidence of blood clots

At least that’s the ones I remember, and that doesn’t include another dozen-odd phone calls and emails, plus lots of wrangling with my insurance company over coverage and claims. Fun times!

All that work was intended to determine why my stroke occurred. But it didn’t.

In cases where there’s no smoking gun, cardiologists look at a specific feature of the heart called the foramen ovale. That’s a small hole between the heart’s two atria that allows blood to bypass going to the lungs before a unborn child begins breathing on its own. After birth, that opening usually closes and fuses shut.

But for one in four adults, that opening doesn’t fully close, which allows a small amount of unoxygenated blood returning to the heart through the veins to bypass the lungs and go straight back into the blood stream to the rest of the body. For most people, this isn’t a problem, but if a blood clot sneaks through that side door and travels to the brain, it can cause a stroke. So it’s one of the things that cardiologists look for when an otherwise healthy person has an unexplainable stroke.

Needless to say, that TEE test I had confirmed that hole in my heart, called a “patent foramen ovale”, or PFO. Ideally, if one could seal that opening between two chambers of the heart, it would prevent any possibility of that defect causing another stroke.

Amazingly, not only is PFO closure something modern medicine can actually do, but it’s considered low-risk and pretty routine. A thin catheter is inserted into the major femoral vein in the groin and up that vein directly into the heart itself. A collapsable metal device – it kind of reminds me of a mesh kitchen strainer – is sent through the catheter and deployed inside that hole, sealing it shut. Visually, it’s like a disc the size of a dime on one side of the opening, and another the size of a quarter on the other side, connected by a very short rod in the middle. See the goddamned photo (it’s not my favorite thing to look at, I’m afraid).

In order to ensure this all goes well, a second catheter – this one bearing a microscopic camera – is threaded up the femoral vein on the other side of the groin. And in my case I think a second camera was sent in through my arm, as well. Throw in an IV for fluids and anesthesia, and that’s a whole lotta jabs!

As I say, this is now considered pretty low-risk and routine. Patients are usually walking and sent home a couple hours later, and I was apparently the third PFO closure that my cardiologist had scheduled that day.

But from the patient’s (my) point of view, having a chunk of metal surgically implanted permanently inside my heart isn’t something I’d consider “routine”!

So leading up to Friday’s procedure, I had a fair share of anxiety about heart surgery and metal implants. It sounded like a whole lot of expense and effort just to reduce my chances of a stroke, especially when there was no clear evidence that this is what caused mine. I’ve been blessed to have never relied on the medical industry very much, so my nerves were pretty highly activated in the lead-up to my surgery.

Fortunately, I had my partner Inna to lean on, plus a number of friends who took an interest and expressed empathy and compassion, including but certainly not limited to Carolyn, Helen, Sally, Robie, Rhonda, Ben, and some of my PMC riding buddies. I might be going through some medical trauma, but I didn’t feel like I was doing it all alone, and that made a huge difference.

Happily, the procedure seems to have gone well, at least from the perspective of a couple days post-op. So now my concerns and preoccupations are focused primarily on the somewhat-involved process of recuperation.

Short-term, I’ve got some annoying restrictions, mostly so I don’t rip open those incisions into major veins. That means no driving, no flying, no lifting, and virtually no exercise. Those restrictions will ease over the coming weeks, but this will curtail and require a major reset for both my cycling and my kyūdō practice. For more on how this operation will impact my cycling, see the companion post on my cycling blog.

So for now I’ll be getting back some free time, which will be put to use catching up on some low-priority projects that I’ve deferred for ages: things like revising several bits of old computer code I rely on, cleaning up my personal online archives, and the like.

From a cardiac perspective, the most important short-term concern is to rabidly guard against any possible infections that might lead to endocarditis. Not only does that mean frequent washing with antibacterial soap, but more aggressive precautions. I’m literally not allowed to see a dentist for at least 6 months, and will need to take antibiotics before every dental appointment – even just cleanings! – for the rest of my life!

And of course there’ll be more medical followups. At minimum there’ll be another cardiac ultrasound to verify the work, plus followup meetings with my cardiologist and PCP.

But things seem under control at the moment, and hopefully I’ll be making a full recovery, after giving things a month or two (or six) to properly heal. And now I look forward to getting back to posting some less dramatic and more typical content!

Twelve days in Austin. It was the best of times; it was the worst of times. Our goal was to secure housing, so let’s see how that went…

Prologue

When I left Boston in 2015, my goal was – after fifty New England winters – to move somewhere beyond the clutches of the Snow Miser. The reason behind my temporary stopover in Pittsburgh was to test whether Inna and I could make a partnership work (which we happily have done, for the past seven years).

Between our differing requirements and a lengthy delay due to the Covid-19 pandemic, we took years to decide where we’d like to relocate to. But after a visit this past April, we finally found a location we could both agree on: Austin, Texas.

The next step was a followup trip to look for an apartment. When Inna’s Austin-based Circling community scheduled a four-day workshop for mid-November, we decided to extend that visit to two weeks, spending the balance of our time house-hunting, then flying back to Pittsburgh on Thanksgiving Day.

Walking the Path

Q2 Stadium

360 Bridge from Mt. Bonnell

Mt. Bonnell NOTICE

Wendel Interior

Wendel Interior

Wendel Backyard

Wendel Brook

Sat November 12: Travel

Our flights down (via O’Hare) were fine, with only minor drama when our motel prematurely charged Inna’s credit card for our entire stay before we’d even arrived!

Wanting to be as central as possible, the motel we booked was located right underneath the main I-35 expressway. It was a dark, musty affair that was pleasantly inexpensive, except for the day of the University of Texas football game, when the daily rate jumped from $80 to $300!

Meanwhile, Google Maps did its best to keep us on our toes by insisting we take “Exit 236: Dean Keeton Thirty-Second Minus Thirty-Eight and a Half Street”. I’m not sure but I think that would be “Negative Six and a Halfth Street.”

After pizza at Love Supreme, we made supply runs to Dollar General and Trader Joe’s.

The evening was completed by the Pan-Mass Challenge announcing this year’s fundraising total: $69 million. That is the single biggest donation that the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute has ever received. But it raised questions in my mind about how and whether I will be able participate in the event an 18th time next year, after our relocation to Texas.

Sun November 13: House-Hunting Day 1

Sunday was surprisingly cold (-2°C). We would have a few nice days in Austin, and a few showery ones, but temperatures were mostly a bit cooler than normal.

We headed to our first house appointment and met up with Alexandria, the awesome real estate agent we were using as our point person. We visited four units (4801 Ave. H, 1700 Perez St., 2200 Spring Creek, and 8607 Dawnridge Cir.), and accidentally checked out another from the outside (1126 Hollow Creek). Three were clear “nos”. Perez felt dark and a bit small but was a maybe, and Dawnridge wasn’t bad except it was quite a ways out of town.

After the shortest “30-minute wait” we’d ever experienced, we had lunch a the Bouldin Creek Cafe followed by a relaxing stroll down the bike path along Barton Creek. Then back to the motel to look at tomorrow’s itinerary.

Dinner was Chinese from TSO, a strip mall take-out joint where the door surprisingly opened directly into the kitchen, with no real pretense at a commercial “front”.

Mon November 14: House-Hunting Day 2

We hit three houses on a rainy Monday. 1309 Corona was cheap, dark, and claustrophobic. 11633 River Oaks was just way too far out, and next to a future development project…

And 3510 Wendel Cove. After two days of everything being on the flat, its hilly neighborhood was a bit of a surprise. After seven years cycling in insanely hilly Pittsburgh, I jokingly cried, “Veto!” when we encountered a short but steep rise on Hart Drive on the way in. But it only got worse, as the house was at the bottom of a very steep cul-de-sac. In spite of that, I really liked the house. Inna was a little more skeptical, since it felt a little dark and awkward, but we put it on our list of possibilities. More about that later.

With house-hunting wrapped up, we lunched at Clay Pit, our favorite Indian place, then stopped at the Book People bookstore. Unfortunately, Inna slipped and injured her ankle in the wet parking lot, so we spent some extra time coming down from that. I took the opportunity to pick up Sayadaw U Tejaniya’s “When Awareness Becomes Natural”, plus volume one of the “Cat Massage Therapy” manga as a gift for our tireless catsitters back home. I quickly read the latter in-store while Inna rested.

Inna requested a quick trip to Amy’s Ice Cream, then we stopped at the H-E-B grocery for an ace bandage and two frozen peas “ice packs”. We returned to the motel and let Inna rest and treat her painful ankle while researching more houses to visit.

Tue November 15: House-Hunting Day 3

On Tuesday morning, Inna’s foot was extremely painful and wouldn’t bear weight, so our first order of business was buying her a walking cane at CVS.

We only saw two places that day, because our third (on Blueberry Trail, aka “Blubbery Troll”) had been taken off the market that very morning. 1403 Springdale (aka the Pizza Hut) was decrepit due to being designated a historical property, and thus highly regulated. And 5202 Downs was an interesting but cheap and idiosyncratic modern unit (with 6-foot ceilings upstairs!) that someone had plunked down in their backyard as a cash grab. I bumped my head three times during the viewing!

Then, with the rain having passed overnight, Inna wanted to go back to Wendel Cove to check it out on a sunnier day, since it seemed to be our reluctant top pick. We spent a lot of time hanging around and thinking it through before coming to the conclusion that it was probably our top choice so far. Our showing agent, Alexandria, was incredibly patient and helpful, as she’d been all week.

I captured and showed Inna a video of the little stream that runs through the backyard that reminded me of my childhood home back in Maine. Coincidentally, Inna had also received a video: her mother had sent one of Pittsburgh enduring its first snowfall of the year. The timing of the contrasting videos made a silent but persuasive point.

As we left, we drove down a tiny private road off the cul-de-sac with another five houses (one displaying a Buddha statue). There were three deer hanging out in the road, and they showed absolutely zero fear as we drove up and turned around. That probably means no vegetable garden for us!

Then we drove around to get a feel for the area. We stumbled into a very shishi neighborhood called North Cat Mountain, and randomly drove up a street called Ladera Norte that was extremely reminiscent of Pittsburgh’s infamous Dirty Dozen hills. In fact, it features in Austin’sTour das Hugel, a 200 KM bike ride that includes 3,600 meters of climbing, which took place a week before we arrived.

We ate lunch at the Galaxy Cafe on Mesa Drive, then ice cream at the Amy’s in the Arboretum. Then we test-drove from Wendel Cove to Hyde Park, where Inna’s Circling studio and my meditation group are located, which was shockingly quick and easy.

We chose to spend the rest of the day at the motel, to give Inna’s foot a rest. We considered filing an application to lease Wendel Cove that night, but held off after Alexandria told us there wouldn’t be any benefit to being the first applicant. Instead, we both spent time scouring Google Maps and adding interesting features to our map of the neighborhood. At this point, I felt pretty good about where we were in the process.

Wed November 16: The Bad Day

Inna had a terrible night, so I let her sleep in late. Her foot was still bad, we were running out of house rentals in our price range, and the anxiety of making such an important decision was weighing on her.

We did look at one owner-listed place – 5113 Stone Gate – but it was a little run-down. We drove around Hyde Park a little bit, but Inna remained somewhat anxious, so I decided to bring her up to Mount Bonnell, a wonderful overlook that I’d been to a couple times, but was new to her. Being outside and seeing the expansive vista over the Colorado River seemed to ground her again.

Unfortunately, things went poorly from there. We tried to get dinner at one Ethiopian place, only to find it permanently closed. And a second one – in a windowless trailer – looked like an abandoned strip club. We finally stopped for dinner at the Oakmont Cafe on 38th, where we paid $60 for absolutely terrible food.

After that, we gave up and drove back to the motel. Inna called and messaged friends for support, which helped a little bit. But aside from Mount Bonnell, it had been an exhausting and emotional day.

But our trials weren’t over. At 2AM we were jolted awake by a group of four men slamming doors and screaming their lungs out in a foreign language outside our door and in the room next to ours. It was intensely aggressive and went on for more than an hour. It was so terrifying that I got out of bed, hid our computers, got dressed, and sat up with Inna’s cane in my hands in case I needed to defend us. Needless to say, we were both sleep-deprived and nerve-shattered.

Thu November 17: Solo Wandering & Mariposa Sit

After four days of house-hunting, we switched gears. I dropped Inna off at her Circling studio for the first day of a four-day workshop. So I had four days on my own, and my own list of things I wanted to accomplish.

My first stop was Wendel, where I walked up Wendel Cove and down Hart Lane and back, just to experience the hills. There were some people outside, a grey and white cat loped across the yard, and a cyclist passed me after coming down the next street over (Westside Drive).

Next I drove 5 miles up to Q2 Stadium, where Austin FC, the local MLS team, play. I stopped in their team shop and picked up a tee shirt and a magnet, feeling uncomfortably unfaithful to my beloved New England Revolution.

Two miles over, I checked out the Trek store on Research Boulevard, where Nathan and Dino gave me some great information about local rides, and even other shops! They suggested I also peek into the Specialized shop that had apparently sprung up in the Domain® pedestrian mall since our previous scouting trip six months ago. I got a good vibe from the place, and hope to join the group rides they run every other Saturday.

Another two-mile drive brought me to the Domain®, which was really difficult to park in. The Specialized store was tiny, but serves as a corporate anchor while they look for a larger space for a full-service shop, since Trek had bought out the shop that was their former Austin HQ. They too offered lots of awesome ride pointers, and specifically recommended the Hill Country Randonneurs.

Then it was time to meet Inna, because we were going to use her lunch hour to visit one last house – the intriguing 5308 Sendero Hills – which had repeatedly put us off due to “renovations”. It was indeed just as bizarre as we’d thought, with its very own palm tree, a big unbroken wall facing the street, chicken coops, exposed cinder blocks in the interior, and the residue of shattered windows in one bedroom! But it was both too far out of town, too expensive, and way too much space for us.

After returning Inna back to her workshop, I checked out the Anime Pop shop, which had the usual manga plus a wall full of figurines. Then the H-E-B in Allandale and early dinner from Sap’s Thai. It’s worth noting for future reference that half of Austin’s Thai restaurants serve entrees that are meat-only, and half serve the expected meat/veg mix; I’ll have to memorize which.

I went to Mariposa Sangha’s Thursday evening meditation and dhamma talk, which – like the one I attended in April – was led by Paul Schlaud, who remembered me from that visit after prompting. The topic was gratitude, and – as in April – I once again got the last comment of the night in.

Afterward, I picked up Inna and we headed back to the motel. Our neighbors were still there, as evinced by the stench of pot, but they were a little bit quieter this night.

Fri November 18: Day Off & Applying Ourselves

I dropped Inna off at the studio again. After a couple days to think it through, she seemed ready to file an application for Wendel Cove.

I spent the day hanging around, cleaning up the motel room and delighting in reports of heavy snow squalls in Pittsburgh. I enjoyed having no errands, no driving, and no rushing around. It was nice and quiet for a time after our neighbors moved out, until they were replaced by some anime girls playing loud rap music that triggered a throbbing headache.

I picked Inna up in the evening and made a quick stop at the Central Market before going back to the motel. Inna told off the neighbors and I made to turn in before she hauled me back out of bed to complete the frustratingly-long online lease application process, which was so invasive that it even required us to supply our body weights! Then the secondary application for our cat, which required both front- and side-view photographs, as well as proof of vaccinations, which was stored at home, 2,300 kilometers away. Frustrating and insulting!

Then it was my turn to have a restless, anxious night. At least the neighbors didn’t blast their tunes when they came home in the middle of the night…

Sat November 19: Half-Day Retreat

After surviving the night, my morning highlight was finding an active infestation of ants in our bathroom. At least it wasn’t bedbugs…

After a visit to the motel office, I dropped Inna off at the Circling studio early and headed off to Mariposa, where I’d signed up to join their monthly half-day retreat, which in this case was on cultivating kindness. In my emotional state, five hours of meditation was either exactly what I needed or the worst thing I could do to myself.

When I arrived, I met Carolyn Kelley – their lead teacher – for the first time, which was pleasant. Although I didn’t really know any attendees, they seemed to comprise a mix of all levels of meditation experience. During the periods of walking meditation, I chose to do standing meditation, which Carolyn asked me to explain in the end-of-day discussion. My response was that for me, being in an unfamiliar building with unfamiliar people would have been awfully distracting, pulling me out of a meditative mindset. Overall it went well, and it was great to finally touch base with Carolyn.

Afterward I picked up a pen at “Paper Place” to replace the Pilot G-2 I’d lost somewhere along the line, and some food at Central Market.

Returning to the motel, I noted that no one had fulfilled our morning request to spray the room for ants, so I chased down a staffmember and stood over him while he sprayed. Fortunately, the insecticide they used wasn’t too stinky…

While Inna spent the evening at karaoke with her Circling friends, I ate my “cowboy casserole” – a mediocre dish of pasta, chicken, and picante sauce – and figured out my plan for Sunday. Then Inna returned and we enjoyed a blissfully quiet night after Inna had skillfully negotiated with the motel staff to not put anyone in the neighboring room for a couple nights.

Sun November 20: Anime Austin

After dropping Inna off for her final workshop day, I made a quick run to Book People to see if they carried the Barron’s financial newspaper (nope).

Then it was out to a Holiday Inn to check out the last day of the Anime Austin convention. It being 10:45am on a Sunday, there were very few people around, and most of the vendors weren’t there yet, so I just wandered around the tables, seeing what was available. It was mostly just acrylic charms and artwork, and the tee shirts were the only thing that I might consider picking up for myself. The panel discussions weren’t really of interest, so after browsing the area I decided to leave. It was a waste of my admission fee, but I don’t mind spending the money to support the hobby.

Next stop was the Barnes & Noble at the Arboretum, where I finally found a Barron’s (they were stored behind the cashiers). I sought out a Circle K convenience store to fill the rental car with gas, but had to find a second one when the first one had apparently closed.

Then a quick stop at Randall’s, which appears to be H-E-B’s main competitor, before hitting up Panda Express for lunch. But the Panda Express didn’t have my preferred dish (black pepper chicken), so I punted and stopped at Fire Bowl Cafe, which offers fresh stir-fry with your choice of carb, meat, veggies, and sauce. It was a delight to finally get some vegetables into my system.

I spent the afternoon at the motel before meeting Inna at the Circling Studio, where I briefly went inside to be exhibited to her friends. Then “dinner” at Amy’s Ice Cream and back to the motel, where a new set of neighbors’ television kept us awake late into the night.

Mon November 21: World Cup & Rest Day

While Inna slept in, I woke up at 7am to watch the first World Cup footy match in Group B: England vs. Iran, which was a 6-2 blowout.

We had pretty much exhausted both the local rental listings and our stamina, and there wouldn’t be many new listings showing up on Thanksgiving week. And with an application already filed for Wendel Cove, we essentially suspended our house hunt. So we had three full days left to fill before our flights home.

At 1pm I watched USA give up a disappointing draw to Wales in their first game. They would eventually advance from the group stage but be eliminated in the “round of sixteen”.

When I taunted Inna with the prospect of visiting Austin without hitting up her favorite Mexican restaurant, the inevitable happened, and we wound up having a huge and delicious dinner at Lupe’s just off Mopac.

During our meal we received our first of several followup information requests regarding our application; this one asking for my drivers’ license, a second month of pay stubs from Inna, and clarification that she wasn’t switching jobs. Inna aborted her evening plans (meeting up with Steven and a Circling session) in order to respond.

Around 11pm a woman started screaming her head off in one of the nearby units, but that thankfully lasted only about 45 minutes before quieting down.

Tue November 22: Killing Time

We woke to another information request: this time for a note from Inna’s boss on company letterhead, confirming that they would let Inna keep her job. The already-frustrating application process was truly out of control.

Having done most of the running around I wanted to do, I let Inna drive the day’s agenda. With limited parking downtown, I dropped Inna off to visit her employer’s local office. It was three floors with a very open street-level entrance, with kombucha on tap and many social and friendly people, which was an improvement over what we’ve seen in other cities.

We stopped at the Vegan Nom food truck in East Austin, then crossed the river to visit the Cosmic Cafe and Beer Garden and Summer Moon Cafe. Then back to the motel for an afternoon nap.

At 7pm I drove her to the Circling Studio for an evening session, while I picked up pad cashew from the Pad Thai restaurant. Then fetched Inna, a quick stop for Mozarts at Central Market, and home.

Wed November 23: Last Day

Although it was quiet overnight, it was my turn for an anxiety-filled night, which wasn’t helped by yet another information request from the leasing agent, requiring us to enter our online banking usernames and passwords! What the fuck? What an incredibly worrying, exhausting, invasive, and demeaning experience.

Inna’s plan was to visit two Circling friends, so I dropped her at the first and went back to the motel. Then I picked her up and dropped her at the second, planning to have lunch and visit a local comics/game store.

My first stop was Thai Fresh, which was inexplicably closed. My second stop was Shake Shack on Lamar, but there was no parking nearby. What’s a guy gotta do to get a meal in this town?

I punted and drove down to Tribe Comics, but spied Jersey Mike’s Subs in the same strip mall, so picked up a chipotle cheese steak before responding to yet another information request; this time verifying our intended lease date. Meanwhile, Tribe Comics seemed like a pretty good and friendly game store, although it saddens me that strategy games and miniatures have almost completely disappeared.

After picking up Inna, we gassed up the car in preparation for tomorrow’s departure and made a final dinner out of the “safety provisions” we’d bought days earlier.

And around 5:30pm we received an email from Wendel Cove’s management company saying “CONGRATULATIONS! YOU ARE APPROVED!” Of course we didn’t have a lease – that would be a lengthy and equally exhausting next step – but we were well on our way to taking up residence in a brand new home in Austin!

And it was a wonderful and ecstatic moment to end our trip on.

Thu November 24: Thanksgiving Homecoming

Between Inna’s still-painful foot, it being Thanksgiving Day, and Austin-Bergstrom’s reputation for long lines, we packed up early and made our way to the airport, doing our usual dance of dropping Inna at the Departures curb with luggage while I circled back around to return the car and hoof it back to the terminal.

Despite both of us getting spot-checked by the TSA, we got our gate 2½ hours early, so we grabbed morning snacks and I went and checked out the terminal’s outdoor patio.

Our layover was in Washington Dulles, where we had to walk from one terminal to another. Inna’s foot held up well; she declined a passing people mover, but we were still glad she’d brought her cane along. I “enjoyed” a Thanksgiving dinner of a Terminal C Pizza Hut personal cheese.

The flight into PIT was short, I retrieved the car, and we made our way home to an enthusiastic reception from the Biggie. But an hour later one of our electrical breakers decided the Thanksgiving holiday would be a great day for a fatal failure, leaving us without power except for some jerry-rigged measures taking advantage of our current apartment’s unbelievably random electrical system. Patchwork repairs would take four days to be fully completed.

That, too, was kind of a poignant way to punctuate our trip.

3510 Wendel Cove

With the trip covered, let me tell you a little about the new place.

First, the basics. 2 bedroom 2 bath 2 floors, 1,530’, built in 1986, 2-car garage. Rent is appreciably less than the other houses we looked at, which is a big bonus coming from the very inexpensive place we currently occupy.

It’s a somewhat modern, idiosyncratic, open layout, with a fireplace and a bizarre towerlike second-floor “flex room” overlooking the open living area below, and which will probably serve as someone’s office. One bedroom, bath, and the flex room are all on the second floor. The somewhat dated kitchen is a little segregated from the open space, which is good for my sensitivity to cooking smells. Lots of big windows and natural light, but shaded by a number of trees. A small deck, back yard, and a brook that runs behind the property.

Other little bonuses are that there are windows (that open!) in both showers, and the only wall we share with the other half of the house is the back wall of the garage. It seems safe and free of the animal and insect problems that one has to consider when living in Texas.

It’s very close to the Mopac expressway, but quiet because it’s in a cul-de-sac, with a sizable hill in-between. It’s very near our desired destinations, and there are lots of nearby attractions, including shopping, library, groceries, post office, medical and vet.

It’s in a neighborhood labelled as “Highland Hills”, between the better-known Allandale and the Northwest Hills. It really feels like a suburban oasis, while being within an easy couple miles of everything you might need in the city. And it’s about a 8 KM bike ride to my meditation center, or about 11 KM to downtown, using the Shoal Creek trail.

The only minuses I could list would be that the interior is almost unbroken beige; one of the shower windows was very poorly and amateurishly painted over; and we’re going to have to figure out how we can set up the space to provide the kind of together-but-apart work spaces we’re used to in our current place. And I should also mention the rather absurd hill, which presents a minor psychological obstacle in leaving home.

Epilogue

So there were some real challenges this trip, especially the noisy motel we stayed at and the insanely invasive and humiliating lease application process. There was also Inna’s painful foot injury, which ironically paralleled my slicing my finger open on a broken glass in the middle of our earlier visit last April.

But in the end, our quest to find an acceptable place to land in Austin was successful. I outright love the house, and despite Inna’s initial skepticism, it has grown on her, too.

As of this writing, we’ve only just gotten the lease signed – which was a whole separate story – and is only the first of a huge number of massive to-dos before we are finally settled in. But it’s still an immense step on our way to new lives in a new city. We’re excited to make a home of it!

I can’t help but point out the huge contradiction between the fictional stories we humans tell each other—which all end happily ever after—and the reality of our lives, which must invariably come to an unhappy end.

This won’t be the most joyful article you read today. It’s been lingering in my outbox for a while, as I struggled with whether sharing my feelings was worth the negative reaction they might elicit from readers. But I think it’s an important point to talk about, so I’m posting it as-is, despite my trepidation about whether anyone shares these thoughts and feelings or not.

Over the past year, I spent some time exposing myself to mainstream entertainment media: movies, television, and so forth. As I did so, I couldn’t help but notice the stark contrast between my life and the lives of the characters depicted on the screen.

In that constructed world, happy endings aren’t just the norm; they are nearly inevitable. The romantic lead winds up overcoming all obstacles, conquering their foes, winning their love interest, and living out a long life. You have to search awfully hard to find a lasting tragic outcome in mainstream media. As a society, we seem unwilling to acknowledge that sometimes—oftentimes—things just don’t work out.

Even the bad things that happen along the way: in the stories we tell one another, they’re heavily foreshadowed, or else they’re somehow “deserved”. There aren’t any surprises: nothing bad ever happens purely by blind chance, and there are absolutely no unjust outcomes. No matter what the challenge, you can bet it is temporary and that the protagonist will overcome it in the end.

While I was observing all these media messages, the protagonist in my real-world life was beset with problems. Biking home from work one day, I was hit by a car that ran a stop sign, and had to foot all the medical and bike repair bills myself because American law simply doesn’t protect cyclists.

On the way home another night, I had a solo bike crash that resulted in a mild concussion. But more severe were the injuries inflicted at the hospital, where a botched IV left me with a foot-long hematoma and an elbow that wouldn’t move for six weeks.

Not long after, I was diagnosed with a painful gall bladder, and had to radically change my diet while waiting two months to undergo surgery to remove it. Following the surgery, my symptoms came right back.

Next, after taking my cat to the vet, he had a mysterious reaction to the routine vaccinations, and the young, healthy pet that I expected to enjoy for many more years was suddenly and unexpectedly dead.

Since all of this happened while I was out of work, it left me struggling with unplanned financial pressures.

While living this discouraging reality, the preponderance of “happily ever after” stories on television seemed amazingly artifical. Although I wouldn’t pretend to assert that life is nothing more than suffering, it’s pretty clear that suffering happens to all of us. And some kinds of suffering will stay with us until the end of our lives.

When you think in terms of happy endings, in the real world nobody dies happy. Some people may accept its inevitability better than others, and some live long enough to welcome it. But in general, people who realize they are dying must be pretty profoundly unhappy about it. In the book of our lives, when we reach the final chapter, we all suffer our ultimate loss. In the real world—the one we live in—the hero always dies, and in all of history not one person has been born who lived “happily ever after”.

Whether it happens tonight or a few years from now, our lives inevitably end. We mourn the tragedy of someone who dies young, saying it was “before their time”, as if there were some cosmic sense of justice overseeing our lives rather than a blind roll of the dice. As a child, I was given an early lesson in that fallacy when my older sister—recently married and a new mother—died at age 21.

Even more tragic is the gradual decline and infirmity that inevitably comes with old age: having to somehow find the inner strength to be okay giving up everything we’ve ever been, seen, done, or enjoyed. As our future dwindles to months—to days—the grand story that we spent our entire lives constructing must end, and in a manner I would describe as “unhappily”.

So what is the point of my persistently rubbing this in your face? Is it just so that I can be a smug pessimist? Not really. It’s more that I felt a need to provide a more realistic counterpoint to the ridiculously fanatstic stories we’re indundated with by modern media.

I think it’s incredibly important that we acknowledge that we will die. While most people try to avoid thinking about death, for me it is a vital, pressing reminder to derive maximum joy out of each moment of every day. My intention here is actually constructive, rather than nihilistic: I encourage everyone to live and pursue their happiness with wisdom and insight that derives from that sense of urgency.

And another huge reason for this post—perhaps surprisingly—is to offer some collective sympathy. You and me and everyone we know: we are all in the same unfortunate position. Our lives—the beautiful epics we’ve worked so hard to construct—will end as tragedies. There will be no happy endings. As such, I offer everyone my sympathy and understanding and fellowship. Being alive and also being aware of the inevitability and proximity of death: this is a difficult, unpleasant, anxiety-ridden state, but one that we all share in common.

Believe me, I feel for you.

Somewhere in my travels I came across this contrarian secret about Buddhist teacher interviews: if you express anxiety or confusion at an interview, the teacher’s job is to reassure you and give you confidence; whereas if you show up confident and in control, their job is to present you with deeper or more difficult challenges, to spur you to undertake greater effort.

The latter was my experience in a recent interview I had with Michael, one of the teachers at CIMC. I began by telling him that I was fairly satisfied with my life and that when I meditate, no pressing issues seem to come up for me.

I told him that in general I am on top of things, using my planning and organizational strengths to mitigate the risk involved in anything I commit to or undertake. When that happens, he suggested that I examine the energy level and the motive behind the actions I am taking, because sometimes that impulse to have everything under control is driven by fear or anxiety, rather than wisdom.

He then asked whether I had any suffering in my life or any deeply buried insecurities or fears. While my life is generally quite good, of course even I have a couple things I keep way down in the murky depths. Without getting all personal about my own particular demons, it’s important to be able to allow those feelings to reveal themselves, rather than to instinctively suppress them, so that one can then make choices and act out of wisdom rather than reactiveness.

So I left that interview with a bit more anxiety, and more of a sense that I need to do a better job admitting and facing the things I fear, rather than burying them. Joy.

Later that week we held another dharma movie night. I had proposed the animated film “Waking Life”, which is stuffed with philosophical meanderings. Even though it’s mostly a bunch of talking heads, and not everyone is as fascinated by philosophy as I am, I expected people to find it thought-provoking. I might have even hoped it would receive as positive a response as my book club selection had.

But before the movie began, we got into a discussion of our next book club selection: Mark Epstein’s “Open to Desire: The Truth About What the Buddha Taught”. When I was asked my opinion, I was honest: I think the book is logically flawed, ridiculously deluded, and dangerously misleading. On the other hand, a couple people enthusiastically loved it, and wanted me to explain why I disagreed with it. As the only person to openly criticize the book, I was on the defensive, and at a disadvantage because it had been a month and a half since I’d read it, and I didn’t have my notes to refer to. So that unexpected discussion left me feeling a bit singled out.

Then we started the movie, which got a predominantly negative reception. In fact, about a third of the way in, four people (out of nine) got up and walked out of the room, spending the rest of the evening outside on the patio rather than watching the rest of the movie. While I have no problem allowing people to make their own decisions, and I know that disliking the movie isn’t the same as disliking me as a person, I still had some emotional turmoil to work through as a result of their surprisingly blunt rejection of something that has a lot of personal and philosophical meaning to me.

In between those two events, CIMC had a dharma talk by Winnie Nazarko that related to creativity. While the talk didn’t touch any nerves for me, one point she made has stayed with me. In general, people engage in a meditative practice because they’re looking for something, whether it’s the answer to a personal dilemma or relief from generalized existential angst. Winnie emphasized the importance of knowing what your overriding question is, so that you can judge whether or not you’re on the path toward an answer.

When I considered that question for myself, two responses came immediately to mind. The first is my familiar refrain of how to live my life such that I will have no regrets on my deathbed, as I discussed here. The other is to learn how to make decisions which are more consistent with my deeper sense of personal ethics and reflect the person I aspire to be and the kind of world I want to manifest. I think it’s a positive sign that those answers came so easily to me, because it shows that I have a clear understanding of why I practice and what I hope to achieve.

And last night at CIMC Maddy held a dharma talk on generosity, and how it is the basis of practice. As we age, we have to let go of everything we have—our possessions, our relationships, our health, and eventually our lives—and the essence of the spiritual path is learning how to be at peace with that process so that we can both live and die with grace and fulfillment.

If that is so, then acts of generosity are a good way to see if we can let go of our possessions, and what it feels like to do so. By exercising our ability to see beyond our attachment to material possessions, we are practicing and becoming more familiar with the kind of letting go that we must all eventually become accustomed to facing.

On top of that, generosity is a truly ennobling act that is a demonstration that one cares about others’ suffering. And it provides fulfillment beforehand (in contemplating giving), during (in the act of giving), and afterward (in the memory of having given). There aren’t many actions one can take that are so pure and have so many positive effects, both for others as well as for oneself.