Your great mistake is to act the drama
as if you were alone. As if life
were a progressive and cunning crime
with no witness to the tiny hidden
transgressions. To feel abandoned is to deny
the intimacy of your surroundings. Surely,
even you, at times, have felt the grand array;
the swelling presence, and the chorus, crowding
out your solo voice You must note
the way the soap dish enables you,
or the window latch grants you freedom.
Alertness is the hidden discipline of familiarity.
The stairs are your mentor of things
to come, the doors have always been there
to frighten you and invite you,
and the tiny speaker in the phone
is your dream-ladder to divinity.
Put down the weight of your aloneness and ease into
the conversation. The kettle is singing
even as it pours you a drink, the cooking pots
have left their arrogant aloofness and
seen the good in you at last. All the birds
and creatures of the world are unutterably
themselves. Everything is waiting for you.
David Whyte
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Shining Darkness
Somewhere in my usual, Polly Anna, Idealist mind I had 2009 pegged as a whole new beginning. A starting over. The words "Fresh" and "Free" would have flowed off my tongue. It doesn't seem to be any of that...so far.
In the last 15 years I've had other struggles, other trials, bigger threats and losses, and as far back as I can remember I've mostly sailed on through, hardly missing a beat in the daily routine; picking back up right where I left off, hardly falling off the wagon on my way to who knows where...but I never quit moving for long.
This time is different and I have to be honest with myself and admit that I am in uncharted waters. I do have the vague awareness of some sort of life jacket or flotation device. There have been moments that a wave takes me under and in that process I've discovered what at first was a frightening realization. I don't have much, if any, fight left in me at the moment. When I find myself once again under water, rather than panic and make a quick dart for air and oxygen, I find only a faint sigh as my body begins to float to the surface without any effort on my part. More often than not I wake up sort of resigned to the fact that I am still here and go through the motions in vaguely disconcerting way. I don't like this, and although I'd like to feel better I don't have the energy to do what it might take to do anything about it.
The other interesting aspect of this time is that juxtaposed to this internal condition is a simultaneous, spontaneously-appearing joy in the simplest things.
In any given day I can be in both heaven and hell several times with no predictability or consciousness about it on my part.
It doesn't really matter to me what got me here, although early on I was grasping for explanations, there is another part of me that is content and at peace with the process. Although at times the depth of the darkness can take my breath away when I realize how far I've fallen from the surface.
My appetite is finicky at best. My sleep is fitful some nights, and a blissful escape others. Basic self-care is a burden and I struggle just to keep hydrated and survive the surf between nausea and hunger. I manage to take most of my supplements most days, but that is mostly to avoid the consequences of not for this on the border body. I guess the truth is I'm in survival mode and simultaneously wishing for death.
To say I am a walking paradox is an understatement. For example, the other day I had a great conversation with someone and was relishing our relationship and the blessing it was to my life and feeling so thankful in general. I realized I was very thirsty and walked to the kitchen, opened the refrigerator to get my water bottle then picked it up a couple of inches off the shelf only to put it down, close the door and put a square of chocolate in my mouth instead, defying any logic whatsoever...I was denying myself exactly what I wanted AND needed.
As I walked out of the kitchen in observer mode I asked, almost outloud, what that was about....why was I denying myself water? The answer came quickly..."It doesn't matter...I don't really care." "Care about what?", I asked. "To live." was the immediate reply.
I must admit that was the truth, which brought some peace, but the backlash of fear that followed was equal. "What do you mean you don't want to live?" "Thoughts like that will make you sick. You will make yourself sick and die and it will devastate Laura. That is crazy. You are crazy. You need help. You have to fix this. You need to live. What is wrong with me?" My breath became shallow and short. And I realized that some days I was hardly breathing. That it took effort and sometimes the air almost caught in my throat. My mind wandered to all the ramifications. This behavior was obviously a physical manifestation of some part of my subconscious that was acting out on it's death wish. It was doing it's part to get it's way or make evident it's desires...desires I wasn't really on board with. All of this...within one morning...complete bliss and complete dispair. And the best part...It's all true and I can handle it.
With the realization I sat down in my favorite chair and just breathed. Deeply. In and Out. Over and over. And in that moment all was well and all ok. If that part of me that feels done and ready to move on to the next realm has it's way and even if it manages to turn into illness...so be it. I have no control, at least right now, to change that. I can be present with that. And I can be present with my lack of appetite as well as the paradox of today....Relishing my freedom and independence in one moment and an hour later feeling completely alone.
Mostly I have just chosen to accept that this is where my mind and my body are right now and I am being as kind and compassionate to myself as I know how to be. Instead of forcing myself to eat food that doesn't look or sound good or buying groceries that are 'good for me' then having to throw them out spoiled, I am taking one meal at a time and mostly eating out or going to New Seasons when I get hungry and getting just what sounds good. That feels nurturing and kind. Instead of forcing myself to go out and be with people when I feel lonely, I allow the desire to stay in to rule. I accept that even though my body is healed to the point I have my doctor's permission to resume light exercise, another part of me needs more time and isn't ready. I am struggling to accept a changing body and fear that it might not ever change back, but in those moments I breathe and I smile slightly. And I accept this very paradoxical existence.
Final note: If you feel inclined to worry, please don't. I am and will be mindfull and take care of myself...and ask for help if I need it.
In the last 15 years I've had other struggles, other trials, bigger threats and losses, and as far back as I can remember I've mostly sailed on through, hardly missing a beat in the daily routine; picking back up right where I left off, hardly falling off the wagon on my way to who knows where...but I never quit moving for long.
This time is different and I have to be honest with myself and admit that I am in uncharted waters. I do have the vague awareness of some sort of life jacket or flotation device. There have been moments that a wave takes me under and in that process I've discovered what at first was a frightening realization. I don't have much, if any, fight left in me at the moment. When I find myself once again under water, rather than panic and make a quick dart for air and oxygen, I find only a faint sigh as my body begins to float to the surface without any effort on my part. More often than not I wake up sort of resigned to the fact that I am still here and go through the motions in vaguely disconcerting way. I don't like this, and although I'd like to feel better I don't have the energy to do what it might take to do anything about it.
The other interesting aspect of this time is that juxtaposed to this internal condition is a simultaneous, spontaneously-appearing joy in the simplest things.
In any given day I can be in both heaven and hell several times with no predictability or consciousness about it on my part.
It doesn't really matter to me what got me here, although early on I was grasping for explanations, there is another part of me that is content and at peace with the process. Although at times the depth of the darkness can take my breath away when I realize how far I've fallen from the surface.
My appetite is finicky at best. My sleep is fitful some nights, and a blissful escape others. Basic self-care is a burden and I struggle just to keep hydrated and survive the surf between nausea and hunger. I manage to take most of my supplements most days, but that is mostly to avoid the consequences of not for this on the border body. I guess the truth is I'm in survival mode and simultaneously wishing for death.
To say I am a walking paradox is an understatement. For example, the other day I had a great conversation with someone and was relishing our relationship and the blessing it was to my life and feeling so thankful in general. I realized I was very thirsty and walked to the kitchen, opened the refrigerator to get my water bottle then picked it up a couple of inches off the shelf only to put it down, close the door and put a square of chocolate in my mouth instead, defying any logic whatsoever...I was denying myself exactly what I wanted AND needed.
As I walked out of the kitchen in observer mode I asked, almost outloud, what that was about....why was I denying myself water? The answer came quickly..."It doesn't matter...I don't really care." "Care about what?", I asked. "To live." was the immediate reply.
I must admit that was the truth, which brought some peace, but the backlash of fear that followed was equal. "What do you mean you don't want to live?" "Thoughts like that will make you sick. You will make yourself sick and die and it will devastate Laura. That is crazy. You are crazy. You need help. You have to fix this. You need to live. What is wrong with me?" My breath became shallow and short. And I realized that some days I was hardly breathing. That it took effort and sometimes the air almost caught in my throat. My mind wandered to all the ramifications. This behavior was obviously a physical manifestation of some part of my subconscious that was acting out on it's death wish. It was doing it's part to get it's way or make evident it's desires...desires I wasn't really on board with. All of this...within one morning...complete bliss and complete dispair. And the best part...It's all true and I can handle it.
With the realization I sat down in my favorite chair and just breathed. Deeply. In and Out. Over and over. And in that moment all was well and all ok. If that part of me that feels done and ready to move on to the next realm has it's way and even if it manages to turn into illness...so be it. I have no control, at least right now, to change that. I can be present with that. And I can be present with my lack of appetite as well as the paradox of today....Relishing my freedom and independence in one moment and an hour later feeling completely alone.
Mostly I have just chosen to accept that this is where my mind and my body are right now and I am being as kind and compassionate to myself as I know how to be. Instead of forcing myself to eat food that doesn't look or sound good or buying groceries that are 'good for me' then having to throw them out spoiled, I am taking one meal at a time and mostly eating out or going to New Seasons when I get hungry and getting just what sounds good. That feels nurturing and kind. Instead of forcing myself to go out and be with people when I feel lonely, I allow the desire to stay in to rule. I accept that even though my body is healed to the point I have my doctor's permission to resume light exercise, another part of me needs more time and isn't ready. I am struggling to accept a changing body and fear that it might not ever change back, but in those moments I breathe and I smile slightly. And I accept this very paradoxical existence.
Final note: If you feel inclined to worry, please don't. I am and will be mindfull and take care of myself...and ask for help if I need it.
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