I found myself in resistance. Occasionally I still reside there for a moment or two, an hour or more … or longer? I’m not really sure anymore. Funny. It doesn’t appear to be mental, simply a perfect storm of life coalescing into an out of control physical experience.
Shocks pepper my body — hand, head, chest, fingers, toes– little ones and some larger, more difficult to embrace, the kind that stop the heart a moment before engaging the mind. What the blip was that? Surgery is done. The bad device fixed and yet, shocks of varying intensity remain. At times I feel like I am being electrocuted slowly, one little shock at a time.
The sensations seem worse as I attempt to drift off to sleep, especially what they call the brain zaps. This past 15 months of v-tachs, one surgery to implant a device, being shocked by it when the device failed, another surgery to fix and repair has left my body in a state of extreme PTSD.
Late at night, when the brain feels fried and I rise from bed unable to sleep and unwilling to rest enough to give the zaps free rein it always comes down to this … If I am going to die right now, am I willing to meet my death, to move through the veil in a state of resistance. Will I meet God kicking and screaming or will I surrender and be present, here-now, in full Yes to my entire experience?
That stops the resistance dead in its tracks. I return to bed willing to die … and since I am writing this today, so far I haven’t died to anything except the momentary resistance. Last night the shocks were rolling through like waves relentlessly crashing onto the beach, one after another into eternity. The fear it seems was what if it never ends, what if it simply fries my brain and my heart, attached to this device doesn’t let me die. Fun one, eh?
There appears to be nothing I can do. Isn’t that a grand place to be, especially for someone who spent her entire life embracing the non-doing, coming to the full-on all-in recognition of Being not doing. And yet, something within this body wants to live, wants to fix and repair itself, and it is tenacious. It may be here as long as I am.
As grand as coming to that realization is, I must admit at 12:30 in the morning it doesn’t feel grand.
I continue to be led. My dear neighbor is helping me reset the nervous system with Feldenkrais. I see my naturopath hopefully on Friday. I trust him completely and I’ve always responded well to his testing and homeopathic remedies. I am nearly ready to return to the most amazing body worker on the planet who I also trust with my life. I relax and listen to music. I stand on the damp earth and ground deeply into its core. I smile and laugh and having tried so long to eliminate foods that exacerbate my health issues without success, I now eat a cornucopia of amazingly healthy foods that bring me joy. And I notice those things I overlooked before in my practice of putting others first and adjustment takes place in the noticing. I will reach out to other professionals as I listen and hear to do so. Those that are intended will come to fruition. Each act feels like a non-doing. Remaining open, knowing arises replete with its natural response — reaching out. The fact that the Universe has me living next door to the most amazing Feldenkrais practitioner in the Northwest is not lost on me.
It’s funny. So many spiritual people tend to overlook their own health. I did. My practice has always been surrender. I took care of everyone, cared about their hurts, their lives and forgot that my life matters too. I even saw surrendering to another’s ill-treatment of me as part of the practice. Love, real love, includes the whole and that includes this aspect of the Whole — me.
I soooooo trust the unfolding. I am constantly amazed at its perfection. I know that my life, shocks and all, life or apparent death, is accurate, could not be different. I have done my best — haven’t we all? We each do the best we can with the karma we carry until something happens that stops the doing, or at the least, winds it down so its ragged edges comes into clear view.
I love life here on planet Earth. Sharing my experience is my passion, my path. It helps ground me putting the truth as I experience it into writing, giving life’s hurts nowhere to hide. I can’t think of a better legacy than letting people know that who they are, exactly as they are, is worthy, acceptable and perfect. No part of anyone of us needs to be fixed, adjusted or hidden. I love you all.
If you want to comment, please share your real, raw experience. I am not looking for advice and … I would love to hear, to feel your realness. True realness seems to be in short supply these days. That is so sad for it is really the only thing that ever heals us.
“Just for today, allow everything to be as it is.” Card #11 The Expanse — The Wild Child