Me and Chopin

I’ve always wondered how musicians, artists and writers who suffered from debilitating diseases or chronic pain could function. I’m talking about Frida Kahlo, Serge Rachmaninoff, Renoir, George Orwell, John Keats, Frederic Nietzche, Marcel Proust, Rilke, Frederic Chopin and more. It’s a long list. How did they do what they did while coping with their bodily ailments?

 

So now I’ve been diagnosed with my first syndrome. Mild by many standards, but the two attacks I’ve had of Meniere’s syndrome have been alarming— intense vertigo and vomiting, as described a few posts ago, but then a fairly quick recovery. I’ve had some back problems at various points in my life but have had a good run of some 15 plus years where it has been okay. But lately, a chronic pain in my right lower back that a recent visit to the chiropracter didn’t help. So between that and some mild dizziness and ongoing lightheadedness the past few days (and the week before in Australia), I’m feeling concerned that I’m joining the above club that I prefer not to sign up for. 

 

But what’s interesting is that during all this, I finished the first draft of a new book and my writing has been as strong as ever. Today I taught five classes, from 5-year-olds through high school and each one was filled with good music, expressive movement and happy children. So it’s clear I can function with both pain and dizziness.

 

But it sure ain’t fun. I’d much rather be more fully present, not feel my attention split as the body struggles to reach some equilibrium, to just not hurt so much or feel so spaced out. Of course I would. We all would and so many have it worse than me, with severe arthritis or diabetes or chronic back pain and so on. It theoretically could make me yet more empathetic towards those who are physically suffering, but hey, I felt pretty empathetic already without having to share the pain. 

 

At any rate, Chopin died way too young and suffered from various illnesses, but sure wrote some fabulous and immortal music. Though sometimes I wish he would stick to the beautiful passages without suddenly going into a chromatic 16^th note rage up and down the keyboard and then calming his storm again. But now I understand why a bit better. Perhaps it was mirroring his own state of health when all was going well and then he was suddenly hit with the next attack. 

 

 Not that I’m exactly comparing myself to Chopin. I’m almost twice his age, I did walk up 1448 steps in Taipei yesterday and then down again without a problem, I have some confidence that this dizziness will pass and my back will sort itself out— and my contribution to the legacy of memorable music is nil. But going through this, I just want to both thank Frederick and let him know, “I feel your pain.”