I am aspiring to be a writer!
My friend Carla Muschio who lives in Italy is a writer, and we meet online once a week to talk about writing in general, and my attempts in particular.
Carla recommended, “you should read some examples of good writing, and I would suggest, The Death of Ivan Ilyich by Leo Tolstoy.” From our time spent at Bryn Mawr College in the late ‘70s, I recall that Carla is a teacher of Russian literature, and she has done extensive work on Tolstoy so I was happy to read this and discuss it with her.
Since I live in India, I thought it best to order a copy from amazon.
While ordering the book, I did not spend too much time thinking about which edition it was, as I had simply forgotten that this book would be a work in translation. I remember many years ago, when the Soviet Union, (USSR) was still in existence, and we were in school, we would buy Russian children’s books at very reasonable rates. This fact alluded me when I ordered my copy, and I simply chose an edition that cost the sum of Rs. 143 and would be delivered in a week! There was no mention of the translator on my book, and it came as a nice hardbound copy, with an imposing picture of Tolstoy on the cover, as a 2023 edition, from Truesign publishing house, Bengaluru. The book claims to be the first edition of 2023, which makes me wonder about the book now!
The book served its purpose – I read it, and commented on it, as a work of literature, and also a reflection on my own craft. As Carla had wanted me to read writing which is good”!
For me, the narrative served as a reflection on the events that took over my life during the past year when I engaged with a brush with cancer.
Starting from the opening scene – Peter Ivanovich reading the Gazette, which has been handed in, announces, “Gentlemen, Ivan Ilyich has died.” The book starts in the present. In this scene, each person present talks about Ivan, and how they will need to go and meet the wife and condole with her, yet, the thoughts in their mind are about the changes and promotions this may bring for themselves or their acquaintances. People think about what they may consider other and larger issues such as money, power and fame, as well as logistical details about a game of bridge.
Reflecting about both myself and others, I ask myself, “when we attend a funeral, to what extent are we completely present with those who are grieving, and how many times does our mind dwell on other thoughts?
Of course, we need to be mindful about the logistical details, however, are we fully present for those whom we have come to meet? Are we here for them, for ourselves, or to preserve social graces? We may also meet unexpected people at the funeral, and we then wonder what their relationship is to the person, or the family members. We almost reconstruct our own lives through linkages with the one who has departed or those we come to condole with!
From my perspective, I was quite amused the past year, when the most random people asked to come and meet me when they heard that I had been treated for cancer. I wondered, “do they genuinely want to meet me, or is it just that they want to put a tick mark for having visited me, in case anything drastic did happen to me?”. I would call these phone calls my “living eulogies” and laugh about them. I did enjoy meeting some of these people – and others would keep making “appointments” and not be able to keep them. It did not really matter to me; I wonder if it mattered to them?! I will never know, for now I am well, and we meet at social functions and do not talk about not meeting earlier.
Chapter 3, speaks about how Ivan Ilyich waited for 17 years for a transfer to a desirable post. Just when he had lost all hope, and took a leave of absence to live with his wife in the country, he experienced the ennui, which spurred him to go to St. Petersburg and take some proactive steps, which were met with remarkable and unexpected success – Ivan Ilyich received an appointment which not only placed him two states above his colleagues, but also gave him a higher salary.
Look at my own circumstances – I am retired from my career as a school Principal, and I often wondered what my relationship with the harsh and long medical treatment would have come to be had I still been associated with a school. I also looked at my own career path - during the early 2000s, I was a teacher at a school, with no hopes of rising to a higher position, which had been initially promised to me. Unlike Ilyich, I was not as hell bent on wanting a higher position, but some events transpired, which also led me to move to another school with another post.
This is how it happened – In March 2004 I was correcting Grade 10 board exam papers in Chemistry, and had to visit a school called Walsingham School, where I was to meet with the supervisor and hand over the corrected set. By chance I met a parent of my school, who was the Primary Headmistress there. She first examined how casually I was dressed, and looked a little puzzled. She then asked me, “have you come for the interview?”
“Which interview? No!”
She quickly bustled around me, “The interview for a new Principal. Come on, why don’t you apply?”
I was completely stunned, as it was the first time that the possibility of even applying for such a position in another school had even struck me.
I did not apply to this school, but almost like a domino effect, I learned about two other positions where the posts of Principal had opened up. I did submit my application, and yes, I did unexpectedly become Principal in a school that September, and spent 12 very eventful years there. Maybe, I too had lost hope in my first school, and yet, with some agency I then moved to another position – unexpected, although desirable, and one which shaped the way I viewed the world of education completely, and which brought me in contact with so many wonderful individuals both parents and students, whom I cherish to this day.
Chapter 4 speaks of the diagnosis – the doctor tells Ivan Ilyich the verdict of his illness, and his mind thinks about how the doctor has shared the news, and what he may have said when judging a trial, bringing in an interplay of both professions. Let me think about my diagnosis – it was not so immediate, it unfolded, bit by bit, personnel by personnel. The first person who indicated anything, was the technician who did the mammogram. “Do you feel anything”, she asked when she detected a lump in my left breast. I did not, and my first response was disbelief, until I was asked to proceed to an ultrasonography. As I lay there, very few thoughts went through my mind, especially since I was physically uncomfortable.
I think what one’s preoccupation is at a particular phase in one’s life, can colour the perspective one takes. For me, that day was my sister’s birthday. My sister is somebody whom I think likes being made a fuss about, but doesn’t always acknowledge this. I had planned to have lunch with her after my routine health checkup. So here I was, holding the news that the mammogram had brought me in my mind. For the very first time, my practice of mindfulness actually kicked in. I had only theoretically learned that when we practice meditation, we learn not to become our thoughts, and we are observers, who then watch the thoughts as they go by, looking at them like clouds in the sky, or waves in the ocean, but understanding that we are more than that…. I also knew that if I allowed a thought to actually pause in my brain, this may result in a flicker across my face, and then my sister would immediately ask, “what’s wrong.” She is my older sister and she can read my emotions. So, on this day, I must very proudly say to myself that I practiced the quote from Viktor Frankl, “Between stimulus and response there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom”. I feel very proud of myself, that on that day, I was not an activist, a teacher or a Principal, I was not fearful of the diagnosis, I was neither certain nor uncertain, I was simply present to the day as it unfolded, and this strength kept me resilient throughout the progress of the treatment and the year.
During chapters 5 and 6, the illness progresses and is starting to wear Ivan Ilyich down – as it is for me as well. It is the nature of the illness, that there is a slow progression from acceptance, to having the will to withstand the onslaught of the harsh medication, to feeling defeated, and almost giving up, but then to pull oneself together again, to cope with whatever comes your way, for we cannot change it, but only accept and hope for the best. The treatment almost seems finite, as one is made aware and prepared for the side effects of chemotherapy. It lasts for a period, and then life and work can take one over. However, there is another entire sequel to the treatment, one which the doctors do not tell you about. My body just does not feel the same again. Maybe part of it is the inevitable aging process, however, I used to be able to walk longer and faster and have more energy and stamina. At this time others who have been through the same experience then share about how long it took for them to feel “normal”, that too at younger and fitter phases of their lives.
Chapter 7 shows the entry of Gerasim in Ivan Ilyich’s life. He is a simple peasant lad, yet he supports Ivan Ilyich unconditionally, without expecting anything in return. While others in the family reconstruct perceptions about the illness, which Ivan Ilyich finds to be lies, Gerasim himself does not ask, but simply does what gives comfort. The interesting aspect is that even after Ilyich died, Gerasim went about his business and helped Peter Ivanovich into his coat with the same aplomb! have many Gerasims, and more than the character – both real, virtual and metaphoric – all of whom unconditionally supported me.
My immediate family and friends came to my support, and I have no doubt that the experience was as demanding and challenging of their emotional strength as it was mine. Unexpected persons also came forward – there was Shivani, once upon a time I was her Principal, and a mentor at a professional level. Shivani was present with me through the entire illness, and wanted to be part of my chemotherapy in the day care at the hospital. I could not even feel embarrassed at that moment of indignity as she accompanied me to the toilet, helped me change my clothes and sat with me as I lay there watching the infusion enter my body. Once upon a time I was her boss, and then in the hospital, I was comfortable enough to be completely vulnerable.
The nurses in the oncology daycare were some of the most empathetic nurses whom I have met. They held each patient with concern and care, and were yet professional about what they needed to administer. The nurses however are more like the Gerasim in the book, since they move from patient to patient and it is their profession.
It is essential for me to recognize that there is more than one Gerasim not only in my life but in all our lives, and support comes from obvious and unexpected quarters. It is sometimes harder to receive support, especially when one has been in a position of power. I think, maybe for Ivan Ilyich, it must have taken tremendous humility and strength, having been in a position of power as a judge, to ask another human being to tend for him and help with the daily ablutions and hold his legs up to give him some physical relief and comfort. It is in fact a surrender of the ego to simply acknowledge needing help and asking for it.
Even now, almost a year after treatment, I continue to remind myself that I can be humble, and when I find that I need, to ask rather than try and do something which I cannot. I do however now think I need to also change my narrative, for all the Gerasims can and will support me, however, they cannot live my life for me, and as I continue to live, I am far more than the one year that the medical blip and treatment took me through. I am now in the process of reclaiming my body, my life, my emotions and my perspectives on life.
If I look at the big picture of what happened in the book, Leo Tolstoy tells the story of a man’s journey towards death, due to affliction by cancer, although the disease is never named. Ivan Ilyich’s life prior to the illness was an ordinary life, in which he aspired to power and material possessions. Although he had family and friends in his life, his own life was empty, and focused on his personal gain and not in building relationships with others. Ivan's life had been "most simple and most ordinary and therefore most terrible."
As he comes closer to his own death, he questions the rationale behind his suffering and examines his own life. He realizes that the further back he looks, the more joy there was, and it is this final realization that changes him and brings him the final acceptance. It is also a major change for him to be humble enough and accept the support which he receives.
For me, there is no end yet, there is just the hope of moving from strength to strength, with the right medical advice, the life choices, personal resilience, and all the friends who support me through and through. This most important learning lesson for me was to gracefully accept all the help I was receiving. It was not always easy for me to do this, especially since I have spent most of my life in some sort of position of authority, and am more used to giving than receiving. It was a very humbling experience to accept that there were so many people from anonymous hospital staff, to acquaintances, friends and family, close and not so close, and everyone came forward to do what they could best do to support me. Yes, all of us benefit from so much loving kindness, it is essential to open our hearts and minds to receive.
This has indeed been something for me to think about. For me the metaphor that works is that cancer and its treatment is a journey, a slice of life’s pathway, and there is a learning for each one of us. I accept If one chooses to see it as a battle, and that enables the individual to go through the treatment, as some of us are warriors. For me it has been a humbling and meaningful experience which has helped me redefine my purpose, as I continue to find meaning for myself, as well as share this with others.
Healing is a long and slow process, writing has been healing, and I hope to continue to reflect on this so that I can move from strength to strength through life. Every experience comes with a life lesson, and I have always been a good student, wanting to participate in class, excel in my work and achieve an A grade in whatever I do. Through this experience too, I would like to graduate with honors and move on to the next phase, which is embracing life beyond Ivan Ilyich.
Thank you, Tolstoy, and thank you, Carla, for opening my mind and heart!
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