I am into my third week of the program, and will either complete twenty one days on Wednesday, or beg indulgence from the church and stay for the full twenty eight day program (returning a week later than planned). I know that many have been wondering how I'm feeling - very well, thank you. The medical care has been stellar; the stress management component has stretched me (positively) in very unexpected ways. The first two weeks were a bit like "boot camp" and now I'm in the consolidation/integration phase - putting into practice what I've learned. I keep a simple but full schedule involving medical care, physical therapy, classes, and walks in the woods. Without a doubt, the woods provide the best medicine. I have learned to live without added sodium, and am surprised to discover how well I feel without it. I am also now off all my medications, and feel like myself again. That awful sensation of "walking through waist-deep mud" is gone - I feel alive and fresh, and with enough energy to get through the day (instead of having more day than energy).
To say I am thankful is an understatement of the highest order. I feel enormous gratitude for all who are participating in my healing - from the doctors who used great skill to help me find my feet, to the staff who prepare and serve food that tastes wonderful even though it is missing most of the ingredients that make it fun! I am grateful for each class, each walk in the woods, each time the physical therapist frees up some scar tissue in my knee (to improve mobility) and responds to my tears with a soothing touch and kleenex. I am thankful for the support of fellow students in this program - many of whom are facing life-threatening illness - and yet take the time to offer a word of encouragement when someone is one bowl of oat bran away from going over the wall. Bill patiently spent the first two weeks driving me to and from appointments (a full time job), and David arrives tomorrow for two days of "supporting Mom." Wonderful, amazing, graceful support - I am so blessed.
And then there was the baby dragonfly. I have always had an affinity for dragonflies - at times I have longed to climb out of the mud and fly about on graceful, delicate wings. I finished a long walk in the woods the other morning, and came back to the car tired but energized. As I reached the car, the most delicate and beautiful baby dragonfly landed on the roof of the car. We each held our ground - inches away from each other - and eye to eye. What a beautiful creature! I was mesmerized by its electric blue color, huge eyes, and delicate wings. As we communed together, I realized that I had indeed crawled out of the mud, and was testing my wings. I have emerged - and I can fly. What a gift!
My gratitude knows no bounds.
Much love,
Kim
Sunday, August 26, 2012
Sunday, August 19, 2012
The Zen of Tree Roots, or, Peace Medicine
Walking isn't easy for me. My knees complain every time they have to participate in any sort of movement. They are happiest when walking in deep, warm water, and I accommodate their preference six days a week. However, they are part of team body, so they also have to adjust to walking on land, like it or not.
There are many difference places to walk here in Durham. I thought I would prefer walking in a highly air conditioned environment (the heat and humidity is exactly what you'd expect in August in North Carolina). I considered walking in the mall, but my brain refused to accompany my body there, and since I'm learning mindful living strategies, leaving my brain home seemed like the ultimate bad idea. There is a walking track at the fitness facility I use for swimming - a nice indoor air conditioned oval walking track that is perfectly lovely, cool, and - well - boring. My doctor instead suggested walking outdoors on one of the trails in the local state park. He thought it would be good medicine for both body and soul. And he was so right...but for reasons I did not anticipate!
I assumed the park would help my soul because of my love of nature, and the peace I feel when deep in the woods. But that isn't what spoke to my soul.
Perhaps it would be the silence and solitude that one finds early in the morning on a trail in the woods. Lovely as those things are, it wasn't what touched my heart.
Maybe my psyche would be soothed by the creatures I would encounter on the way - all manner of bird and small beasts who would watch as I made my way along the path (not to mention the two large coyote-like creatures who shadowed me one day - I'm sure they thought Thanksgiving dinner arrived early this year, and came with two walking/rotisserie sticks)! But alas, not even the yotes were the medicine I sought.
Instead, the medicine came in the form of tree roots - thousands of them- sticking up on the trail. I cannot safely walk the trail unless I proceed slowly, and carefully place each foot where it needs to go. If I want to look around and monitor the four legged hunting party watching my every step, I have to stop and look - not look and walk (a behavior that surely disappoints the yotes, as it decreases the likelihood that they will snatch an easy meal). Each foot is carefully placed on a carpet of soft Carolina pine needles that fall among the hard tree roots. Leaves are beginning to find their way to the floor of the forest, adding color underfoot. And here is the amazing thing - my mind cannot spin off in a zillion different directions when I am concentrating on not breaking my ankle or hip. I am fully in the moment - fully mindful.
And I am at peace.
I have tried walking meditation many times, and always found my mind would spin off in one of a hundred different directions. In the forest, it is still - focused - at peace.
Peace is great medicine . It is a precious gift, for which I am deeply grateful.
May you find your peace medicine as you follow your heart, and listen deeply...
Walking and living mindfully,
Kim
There are many difference places to walk here in Durham. I thought I would prefer walking in a highly air conditioned environment (the heat and humidity is exactly what you'd expect in August in North Carolina). I considered walking in the mall, but my brain refused to accompany my body there, and since I'm learning mindful living strategies, leaving my brain home seemed like the ultimate bad idea. There is a walking track at the fitness facility I use for swimming - a nice indoor air conditioned oval walking track that is perfectly lovely, cool, and - well - boring. My doctor instead suggested walking outdoors on one of the trails in the local state park. He thought it would be good medicine for both body and soul. And he was so right...but for reasons I did not anticipate!
I assumed the park would help my soul because of my love of nature, and the peace I feel when deep in the woods. But that isn't what spoke to my soul.
Perhaps it would be the silence and solitude that one finds early in the morning on a trail in the woods. Lovely as those things are, it wasn't what touched my heart.
Maybe my psyche would be soothed by the creatures I would encounter on the way - all manner of bird and small beasts who would watch as I made my way along the path (not to mention the two large coyote-like creatures who shadowed me one day - I'm sure they thought Thanksgiving dinner arrived early this year, and came with two walking/rotisserie sticks)! But alas, not even the yotes were the medicine I sought.
Instead, the medicine came in the form of tree roots - thousands of them- sticking up on the trail. I cannot safely walk the trail unless I proceed slowly, and carefully place each foot where it needs to go. If I want to look around and monitor the four legged hunting party watching my every step, I have to stop and look - not look and walk (a behavior that surely disappoints the yotes, as it decreases the likelihood that they will snatch an easy meal). Each foot is carefully placed on a carpet of soft Carolina pine needles that fall among the hard tree roots. Leaves are beginning to find their way to the floor of the forest, adding color underfoot. And here is the amazing thing - my mind cannot spin off in a zillion different directions when I am concentrating on not breaking my ankle or hip. I am fully in the moment - fully mindful.
And I am at peace.
I have tried walking meditation many times, and always found my mind would spin off in one of a hundred different directions. In the forest, it is still - focused - at peace.
Peace is great medicine . It is a precious gift, for which I am deeply grateful.
May you find your peace medicine as you follow your heart, and listen deeply...
Walking and living mindfully,
Kim
Sunday, August 12, 2012
Chrysalis Time
It is not a year's experience; it is not a degree once gotten and then ignored. This is not a spiritual quick fix. It is a way of life and it takes a lifetime to absorb. Nothing important, nothing life altering, nothing that demands total commitment can be tried on lightly and easily discarded. It is the work of a lifetime that takes a lifetime to leaven us until, imperceptibly, we find ourselves changed into what we sought." Joan Chittister, The Rule of Benedict: A Spirituality for the 21st Century
All is well. I am safe, getting stellar medical care, challenged, encouraged, and learning to heal my heart and life. This is serious chrysalis time, as I work to change into what I seek - my true self, healthy, whole and well.
May you be happy, may you be peaceful, may you be free from suffering, may you be healed, may you be filled with love. And may I be the same...
Kim
All is well. I am safe, getting stellar medical care, challenged, encouraged, and learning to heal my heart and life. This is serious chrysalis time, as I work to change into what I seek - my true self, healthy, whole and well.
May you be happy, may you be peaceful, may you be free from suffering, may you be healed, may you be filled with love. And may I be the same...
Kim
Monday, August 6, 2012
Dangerous Wonderful Journey
Normally I write on Sunday night, but I spent the evening watching a dust storm move through our area. At first I thought it was smoke from one of the neighboring wildfires. But then it reminded me of the dust storms I experienced briefly while living in Arizona, and the internet confirmed that we were indeed being showered with dust. An odd metaphor...
The first thing I do in the morning is look out of an east-facing window toward the Boise Foothills - Psalm 121 is part of my hard wiring. The view from our little patch of earth in Meridian is obstructed by houses etc, but if I look at just the right angle, I can see them - usually. Today, they are a memory, and the air hangs heavy with particulates. It is an odd, unpleasant sight. Visible/not visible - a bit like my current reality.
I'm about to embark on a healing journey that feels part vision quest, without the comfort of the physical wilderness (although the American South in August may feel more like wilderness than I've bargained for). I will spend three weeks addressing "heart" issues on multiple levels, working with cardiologists, dietitians, exercise pt people and stress management coaches in order to heal my heart. Last week as I reflected on this journey I found myself wondering which I feared more - that I will have to embrace lasting change as a result of this journey, or that, despite this journey, nothing changes. It is the latter I fear most - it is time for change.
I've been reading a very challenging book on women and intuition called "Women's Intuition: Unlocking the Wisdom of the Body, by Paula M. Reeves. I came upon an interesting quote last evening in her chapter entitled "Trusting Intuition to Lead Us"-
Once we begin to clear away much of what has stood in the way of conscious embodiment, we begin to feel, see, and hear the murmurs of our intuition more clearly. We must pay heed to these whisperings or else they will again disappear. These faint signals come from the essential Self, urging us to be true to ourselves and the changes authenticity brings. But we face many challenges as we learn to listen in - for example, what if what we hear is disruptive to our lives? How do we differentiate between "true" signals and those that should be ignored? These are crucial issues, particularly for women because our desire to please is so strong.
Our strength not to succumb to the fear of rejection, alienation, or abandonment by those who want us to stay the same will be tested. This can be very difficult, for the urge to change may bring us into conflict with the others who share our lives...because of this, it is inevitable that we will feel a conflict between what our intuition is telling us we want at the deepest level and our wish to avoid a disruption in the expectations that we have been carrying for those we love (those with whom we live, and work and share our lives). Listening to our bodies, we may even realize that we have agreed to things not because we truly felt them, but to guarantee that we will not be abandoned or rejected. Revisiting the many barters made under the guise of only wanting to avoid conflict or not make waves in order to belong, to be acceptable, to be thin enough, or bright enough, or to avoid gossip, we may discover we really don't give a damn about an antiseptically clean kitchen floor, parenting, marriage, work or the latest fashion (p 166, with editing).
Sigh. Strong words...
I will not only be looking at the electrical wiring of my heart, but also all those barters I've made along the way that help keep me in this state of chronic stress, so that I heal on all levels - body, mind and soul - and come away from this "vision quest" whole, and more able to hear my inner voice.
Change is coming - change is here. I may not write on this blog during my time away (not sure yet - will play it by ear). This quest has been decades in the making - and now it is time. I tremble with a fearful joy as I prepare to step into this unknown.
See you on the other side -
Kim
The first thing I do in the morning is look out of an east-facing window toward the Boise Foothills - Psalm 121 is part of my hard wiring. The view from our little patch of earth in Meridian is obstructed by houses etc, but if I look at just the right angle, I can see them - usually. Today, they are a memory, and the air hangs heavy with particulates. It is an odd, unpleasant sight. Visible/not visible - a bit like my current reality.
I'm about to embark on a healing journey that feels part vision quest, without the comfort of the physical wilderness (although the American South in August may feel more like wilderness than I've bargained for). I will spend three weeks addressing "heart" issues on multiple levels, working with cardiologists, dietitians, exercise pt people and stress management coaches in order to heal my heart. Last week as I reflected on this journey I found myself wondering which I feared more - that I will have to embrace lasting change as a result of this journey, or that, despite this journey, nothing changes. It is the latter I fear most - it is time for change.
I've been reading a very challenging book on women and intuition called "Women's Intuition: Unlocking the Wisdom of the Body, by Paula M. Reeves. I came upon an interesting quote last evening in her chapter entitled "Trusting Intuition to Lead Us"-
Once we begin to clear away much of what has stood in the way of conscious embodiment, we begin to feel, see, and hear the murmurs of our intuition more clearly. We must pay heed to these whisperings or else they will again disappear. These faint signals come from the essential Self, urging us to be true to ourselves and the changes authenticity brings. But we face many challenges as we learn to listen in - for example, what if what we hear is disruptive to our lives? How do we differentiate between "true" signals and those that should be ignored? These are crucial issues, particularly for women because our desire to please is so strong.
Our strength not to succumb to the fear of rejection, alienation, or abandonment by those who want us to stay the same will be tested. This can be very difficult, for the urge to change may bring us into conflict with the others who share our lives...because of this, it is inevitable that we will feel a conflict between what our intuition is telling us we want at the deepest level and our wish to avoid a disruption in the expectations that we have been carrying for those we love (those with whom we live, and work and share our lives). Listening to our bodies, we may even realize that we have agreed to things not because we truly felt them, but to guarantee that we will not be abandoned or rejected. Revisiting the many barters made under the guise of only wanting to avoid conflict or not make waves in order to belong, to be acceptable, to be thin enough, or bright enough, or to avoid gossip, we may discover we really don't give a damn about an antiseptically clean kitchen floor, parenting, marriage, work or the latest fashion (p 166, with editing).
Sigh. Strong words...
I will not only be looking at the electrical wiring of my heart, but also all those barters I've made along the way that help keep me in this state of chronic stress, so that I heal on all levels - body, mind and soul - and come away from this "vision quest" whole, and more able to hear my inner voice.
Change is coming - change is here. I may not write on this blog during my time away (not sure yet - will play it by ear). This quest has been decades in the making - and now it is time. I tremble with a fearful joy as I prepare to step into this unknown.
See you on the other side -
Kim
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