Lean love

Who am I? How often do you ask yourself that question? On some level, I think I am constantly seeking the answer. I don't want a reflection of who I am, I want the Truth, the naked Truth.

Today's answer isn't so very pretty. It's one of the rare days I can't shake the blues of chronic pain and one more symptom to handle. Vertigo has decided it's time to call again on top of all of my other house guests: poor sleep, stuffy nose, headache, sinus pressure, neck ache, shoulder and hip pain, tight jaw, and constipation. I have a daily regimen of supplements, netti-pot, exercise and food intolerances to handle. I am grateful that they have worked all summer. Until the hammer of stress came crashing down as it does periodically on all of us. And I kept pushing through.

That mess of annoyances is about all that I can see. My pattern is to retreat, where it takes less energy to survive until symptoms recede. But I don't think that's the healthiest route. It seems one of the patterns I need to break. Last week, I spent a good deal of time pouring over some astrology interpretations from the amazing monthly group I attend under the guidance of my spiritual friend, Char. In this space, I have been able to delve deeper into who I am, or am meant to be, and look beyond the drive-me-crazy symptoms. According to the stars (and planets and their interactions), I have been blessed with many gifts and the means to use them. I am, they say and I know myself, a late bloomer. I married later, had my kids older and still don't know what I want to be when I grow up. I also must follow my own path, which  includes a lot of excavation. I joyously e-mailed Char Monday that I had meticulously gone through all of the material and how happy it made me, how affirming and confirming it had been.

So what's changed in a a day or two? Nothing that I haven't already dealt with the past 16 years. Shortly after I began this post, I looked up, frustrated. I didn't want to whine or be in that self-pitying place. The large signing dangling from my studio ceiling saying "Take a Break" was the first thing that came into focus as I adjusted my eyes away from the computer screen.

I get it, I thought. I doubt the instructions could be any clearer. I quickly Googled what movies were playing and opted to forgo unproductiveness and truly take a break. I settled on the "100 Foot Journey" with Helen Mirren. I'd selected the book a year ago for book club and was thoroughly delighted and entertained ... to the point I'd forgotten it was fiction. In my rushing to the car to make the show, a van driver flagged me down, lost. I drove her to the highway, stopped home briefly and was on my way, arriving ahead of the previews. What wasn't to like: food, France and Indian culture. The scenes shot in Paris brought tears of gratitude for the trip we had as a family this summer. "God, you have been so very good to me," I said silently. I didn't add the "but why am I always struggling" as I had earlier.

One of the things I have been learning about myself by studying my natal chart is that I need to periodically treat myself and take breaks. I tend to push through and deny myself. I've been pushing ... all summer. From a wonderful vacation at the beginning (that I completely planned from scratch, which I love but can be stress-inducing), to balancing kids home and more outside work, some stinging upsets (learning I must relocate my studio and Artsy Fartsy and that I missed a major grant deadline), getting my girls off to school while my husband was out of town (I honestly don't know how single parents do it) and settling my oldest into college courses this week as part of the post secondary enrollment options program. Did I mention we have also have a new driver? 

It is just life, dished out to us all. I live it hard, forgetting to breathe and, often, to enjoy. One of my recent astrology lessons is to let life flow through me. I wonder what that looks like, exactly. Here are a few of the other lessons I am cultivating:
• To live out of abundance, confidence and trust;
• To follow my dreams and truth;
• To let go of fear;
• That boundaries are necessary, barriers are not.
• To bring the past forward;
• That my security in life rests in Spirit.
• To put power and energy into intention.
• That healing requires pruning the excess;
• To rely on my (inner) resources and that looking within gives me the most clarity;
• That's is ok to risk and create new structures to replace what isn't working any more.

I am calling all of this lean love and am thinking that I used a little of that on myself today by going to the movie instead of wallowing in my studio. Hooray for me – I AM learning.

• What's my gut reaction to stress?
• What are my go-to patterns?
• What patterns must I seek to change?
• Where do I find Spirit in the mess of life?
• What lessons about living and loving am I learning?

allowing myself
the luxury
of half
the workout

grateful
breast stroke
didn't induce
vertigo

racing around
to drop my daughter
at school even
though my husband
offered

why? I now
wonder

finding the grace
to take a few hours
off, dreaming of
France and food

sneaking in a grocery
trip, attempting
dinner, an aborted
bank stop and
getting my daughter to
her first night
class on time

when, again
my husband
offered

why, God,
do I insist 
on killing myself?

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Worship launches whirlwind week

Answered prayers and blessings have abounded this week and, fortunately, I've been in a place of awareness and gratitude. Could I possibly always be this blessed, just not aware?

Much of it has to do with a conscious effort and new spiritual practice to bless everything and everyone. Ok, really, it's Spirit, yet my awareness is more present, focused and tuned in.

IT'S IN THE EYES
Monday, I took a brief road trip with my twin sister to Smalltown, Indiana, to visit a naturopath her co-workers rave about. It was a beautifully sunny day to weave up and down among the rolling pastures, neat farms, livestock, flea markets and forgotten villages. I needed a new perspective after a long winter of hibernating. We arrived early and had a brief wait in the front of the building, where all of the herbs are kept. Several locals strolled in looking for this tonic or that. We had our appointment together, but Carolyn gently insisted I go first. "Just like you pushed me out of the womb?" I jokingly asked.

Terri began by photographing each of my eyes. She practices iridology, which purports your health is recorded in the eyes. I was enamored with the photos and coaxed her into e-mailing me one. She seemed impressed with something about my eyes, though didn't name it. I scribbled a page or two of notes since she had many interesting things to day. Most rung with truth. Those that didn't personally, I could see were family traits. What interested me most, beyond her saying I had a strong structure and healthy heart, was her suggestion that the fibromyalgia is bacterial. That spoke to me not in a new-hope-this-will-fix-it way, but as a truth, one path no one else has uttered, let alone offered to treat – naturally. She bumped up my thyroid treatment, gave me an enzyme for digestion, olive-leaf oil for the bacteria and a sleep enhancer to get me off the Valerian root-melatonin and Benadryl roller coaster. I have had more energy this week. I am struggling with sleep, weaning off a cocktail of many years. However, I am giving it a go. Funny thing, at the beginning of my consultation, she looked at me and remarked: "You're always going and active, aren't you? And when you're done, you drop." I responded that I think of myself more as a contemplative, then remembered how my husband always reminds me that I never stop, unless physically forced to.

I think Terri calls it as she sees it and reminds me I am not sickly and helpless, the way my ego has ensnared me.

REMEMBERING TO FEEL BLESSED
Forgetting NOT to take the thyroid supplements before bed and mixing it with the sleep aid was a mistake that had me up and down all night. Tiredly, I drug myself to the pool, then off to meet my new workshop partner for our final planning session. We're presenting tomorrow (Saturday). Sunday we had been disappointed that no one showed up at our preview session, though we buoyed each other and left undaunted. This work seems like such a blessing and exactly what I am called to that it's not really work. Of course, there's lots to do and much effort exerted, but it's fun, playful and, even, prayerful. Before Monday's road trip, I'd popped into the studio to finish the wall-of-pain piece I'd created for the workshop. We'd gotten the ok to set it up in our venue and use it as a teaser. The owner loved it and it looked great. How could anyone resist? we thought. We have five souls coming tomorrow and are thrilled! I'd caught myself from becoming desperate and used prayer and blessings when it was only two on Tuesday. I also have my diligent partner to thank.

SEEING CLEARLY A SLOW PROCESS
Sunday, I'd left Quaker meeting (church) early, missing the business meeting, to co-host that intro workshop I mentioned earlier. In my absence, the congregation considered a ministry grant request from me for salary and rent for Artsy Fartsy Saturdays, the not-for-profit arts exploration I launched for local, at-risk kids. I'd had mixed feelings about attending. I wanted to be sure people had space to talk freely and me being there would, possibly, inhibit that. The 2 p.m. workshop made it a moot point.

Sailing busily through the week, testing a new supplement regiment and fighting something off, I hadn't thought much about Sunday's business meeting. Actually, I kept thinking I could call our minister when I had time; surely she'd know what happened. The plain white envelope with a neatly handwritten note on a yellow, legal half sheet wrapped around a check beat me to that call. The money, my FULL request, showed up in the mail with a lovely message from the treasurer. She's not one to gush and said how delighted the meeting was to put funds to such a good cause. I was overcome with joy, relief, tears, gratitude and feeling loved and blessed. Something I haven't felt in a very long time. It was wonderful. I did call our minister the next day to tell her how touched I was. "I wish you had been there, Cathy. There wasn't even a hiccup; people really have wanted to do this. We have been clear you have gifts, but, before Artsy Fartsy, they weren't focused. Clearly, they are now."

I can't even remember the number of clearness committees for ministry I have had in the last 12 years.  I have struggled through a number of them, remaining unclear. This last round, however, was so pure and taught me that I have to be clear myself, not rely on others for that. They may help by asking questions, but not by giving advice or suggestions. My group was to have met the first Sunday in March with my request, but a winter storm cancelled worship and anything else that day. So, I e-mailed my proposal, for which I was crystal clear, to the committee and it went to ministry and counsel with their blessing. Apparently ministry and counsel recommended it to the business meeting and, WA-LA, it was approved. On one hand it seemed so easy, on the other, it has taken me along time to get here. My journey was to learn to ask for what I need. When I finally could, it was lovingly given. The next morning as I ticked off laps, I blessed the names and faces of everyone I could think of in my meeting.

ROOTING IN THE PRESENT
Today, as I prepped for tomorrow and blog, I received an intriguing phone call from someone I'd met a few weeks ago who uses shipping pods as gallery space. He's got an empty two-week slot and wonders whether  there's a place around here the show can land. The longer I talked, the more excited I got. Wow, God, I thought, you had him call me! Then, please let me connect him or figure it out. In another time, I would have found it an annoyance. I am grateful to be clear, aware and grounded in the present. Amen.

Maybe there is something about my eyes.

• What is my experience of clarity?
• When have I been clear?
• When have I been anything but?
• When have I heard truth from unusual or unexpected sources?
• How do I express gratitude for the truth, clarity and blessings?


whirlwind
of a week,
bookended

by worship
and teaching
about pain

linked with
truth, blessing
and love

and a new
vision of
myself
as strong,
healthy,
lovable

and
Spirit's
emissary*


*Years ago when I attended School of the Spirit and our small group named each other's gifts, my facilitator wrote this. I couldn't see it then. I am beginning to.

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Pain as teacher

Reactions when I suggest that pain can be a teacher have surprised me. They range from shrugs, topic-switching and a general politeness in tucking this subject away. Except by those who know.

So it was delightful that a small group to which I belong actually asked for more information. Experiencing pain became one of our discussion points that evening. We begin our sessions by catching each other up on our lives since last month, often connecting it to the archetypal astrology we are here to study. Almost magically, whatever has collectively been on our hearts has woven its way into our sage instructor's lesson, before we even knew. One soul shared her frustration at major obstacles, yet retained a calm detachment. Another currently feels overwhelmed by life. One actually has opening pain in her chest. The other three of us were not currently in those places, but we have been. We heard each other's pain. Better yet, those in pain seem to be letting it in and learning its lessons.

This group's honesty and integrity provides great comfort and confidence with regard to a new workshop, Pain as Spiritual Teacher,  I am so excited about hosting with a longtime friend and very trusted healer. When I proposed it several months ago, she didn't flinch. "Of course I'll do it with you; what took you so long to ask?" she replied to my request. What makes this so authentic, I believe, is that we have both struggled for years with chronic pain. We're combining my spiritual nurture and creativity with her yoga therapy and counseling background. 

Pain has been the subject of some of my writing, here, and in other venues. I'd like to share portions new to this blog. They are personal and MY journey, so I don't expect them to speak to everyone. Sharing these experience can empower healing and awareness in others, which is why I feel called to do so:

Truthfully, pain has been a catalyst in my life: an agent of change, bridging one stage to another. The one before fibro and the one after. The one before awakening and the one awakened. The one fighting myself and the one learning to surrender. The one mesmerized by cultural mandates and the one living from my heart. The false self and the real self. The me-centered life and the God-centered life. Striving for unattainable perfection and embracing my flawedness. Pretending to be strong and showing my weakness. Wearing masks and shedding them.

When pain came calling at my door, I had no choice but to let it in. It preyed on every weakness, wore me down and I gave it utter control. I succumbed to its charms and let it define me. My ego was a mess. I believe it gave into what it thought was stronger. It told me I was nothing and, along with the pain, took charge.

I see now it was not acting in my best interest, but its own. 

Too long I had listened to the world’s warped idea that we are immune to pain and … if you experienced it you are weak, unworthy or not one of the annointed.  I bought the cultural promise of ease, health and wealth. So, when pain struck, I was defenseless. 

For all intents and purposes, my projected self curled up and died, my ego going through the motions and pretending. I was a pretty good actress. Besides, who really wants to recognize another’s pain? Means you’d have to own yours first.

Fighting it or letting it rule me were not the answers I was seeking. Befriending it was. Looking at it as having a message changed my perspective, helped me open to that wisdom and surrender the situation to God instead of (mis)managing it myself. 

Oh, but I fought the work of exposing my wounds. They were piled so heavily, imbedding my core self even more deeply. Creativity rescued me by expressing, exposing and accepting my wounds in a manner I could comprehend, even embrace.

I gained a new awareness, though I walked one step at a time. I was not ready for more. I write this now with the perspective and insight of distance.

God gave me the courage to shine the flashlight of Truth into the most locked parts of myself: the places sealed off since childhood that the pain tapped. A willing, but tepid traveler, I was astonished to witness that the inaccessible parts were not ugly and dangerous, just trapped inner children given no light, nurture or encouragement to mature. With exposure, they blossomed and were able to tell me what they needed. Some of them I have parented into adulthood. Others till need tending and room to grow. 

As God and I chiseled away at these layers, I could loosen my grip on the false self, which had been a response to injury. That injury had become my inner jury and judge. I let it tell myself I was less-than and unworthy. 

As God helped me excavate, I began to see myself again as the unharmed pure one I knew so well in childhood, untainted by wounds. This innocent had been surrounded, crowded and choked out by all of the injured still nursing their wounds and in paralysis: a state of shock, incapable of moving or growth. Until God released them, me.

I experience pain, but, with God’s grace and wisdom, don’t let it define, freeze or trap me. I now know to look for its message: to what am I not paying attention that I should. 

Inevitably, there’s a sacred lesson, for pain is teacher.

• What is my reaction to pain?
• What is my experience of pain?
• How does that idea that it has lessons to teach resonate in me? 
• What might those lessons be?
• How can sharing my experience possibly open others?

Pain as Spiritual Teacher will be offered at two Cincinnati locations in March and April. The first in a series, we are planning three others. For more information, please visit: https://www.facebook.com/events/1424900054406234/

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