Idaho continues to burn, but there is hope that the rains forecast for tonight will help to break the inversion, wash the air clean and help to dampen the Walker Fire. The last week brought a succession of red air quality days - with a few dips into the purple - and misery for anyone with sensitive pipes. Since I own that tee shirt, it has been a long, unpleasant week - that was preceded by eight other challenging weeks. All was well until August. Then weeks of smoke and bad air gave way to sage (killer allergen); a common cold stopped by for a visit, and was capped off by this late wildfire and horrible air quality. By last Saturday, I was cooked. Done. Defeated.
And therein lies one of my tripwires - the word defeated. I automatically frame bronchitis as defeat, and immediately go on a holy crusade to defeat it! I have had enough therapy to understand the origins of this behavior, but haven't integrated this insight in a way that changes my behavior (yet) - evidenced by the incredibly silly choices I recently made before reaching the point of acceptance.
Since I am hardwired to never accept defeat, but still need to cope with adverse circumstances (like bronchitis), my first response is to pretend that what is happening is not real. Even though I cannot stop coughing, feel like hell, and struggle to take a deep breath (and have had bronchitis at least once a year since I was an infant, and thus have ample first hand experience with it), I begin by pretending that it is not bronchitis. Must just be the smoke. Or its only the sage. Just keep going; it will pass - if you pretend it is not real, it isn't there. Ah, the temporary bliss of magical thinking.
But one underrated gift of ageing is that the insane denial tactics of youth don't hold up so well on the other side of 55. The body tires of the charade more quickly, and brings you to heel with a quick tug on the leash. Once my body has my attention, then healing is possible - if I can accept what is truly happening, and respond to it with an open heart.
Acceptance remains a great struggle for me. I have moments when it is as clear as the sun in the sky that irregardless of any circumstances, all is well - I am interwoven into and part of an experience/creation greater than myself, and enveloped in God's love. Those moments come as flashes of awareness, and I settle into them like I do a warm, cozy blanket on a frosty autumn day. It is harder for me to see this truth in the midst of difficult and unpleasant things (like bronchitis) - things that invite me to stop, accept, and make different choices (uncomfortable!). It is hard for me to remember that this truth is real, even when it does not feel real.
When I think of last Sunday, and imagine God in human form, I see God watching my choices with head in hands - knowing that God had to wait until I finally hit the wall before I would stop and see sense. At 5:30 am Sunday morning, sense was still hours away, and my denial and duty filter was firmly in place. I pushed myself until mid-afternoon. Then in the midst of an appointment with a dear soul, I finally hit that wall and my body snapped the leash - and I had no choice but say that I could not continue. It was time to stop.
And this dear one sitting with me was willing to voice the words of our still-speaking God, and looked at me with deep compassion and said, "of course we can stop - your well-being is important to me - please take care of yourself." And we stopped. And I cancelled my remaining appointments. And I went home - feeling defeated.
That night, curled up in the recliner with my hacking cough and unsettled spirit, I felt her words wrap around me like that warm, comforting blanket. Then I smiled as I experienced awareness - and laughed about my crazy antics throughout the day (I am too embarrassed to recount in print the lengths I went to in order to not be sick on Sunday). In the midst of this laughter, I noticed something new in my heart:
Tenderness. Usually there would be voices of judgment accusing me of failing by getting sick, or failing by not fulfilling my duty. Instead, I felt tenderness towards myself, and a desire to nurture myself back to health. "Your well-being is important to me," said the visiting angel speaking for God. And in that moment, I realized that it was important to me, too. I accepted the bronchitis and embraced it, instead of wasting energy battling it and making it my enemy. I worked remotely from home for two days. I made myself a big pot of chicken soup, drank steaming broth and hot teas, and took naps when I was tired. I even went to the doctor and am taking the medication that I do not like, but always helps me to heal.
This unwanted illness became a window through which I experienced God's tender, nurturing love, and was able to see that - my goodness! - I am growing in my capacity to follow God's example and love and nurture myself! This is progress (baby steps) - a gift - a great blessing. I do not, for a moment, believe I was "stricken" in order to embed this lesson and gain this perspective. But I do believe that our God, the great recycler, wastes nothing; using whatever circumstances come our way to gentle us into a greater expression of our true nature - of love.
As I write this, I am sipping a cup of authentic (not from a box) Yogi Tea. Back in 1984, while living at Seminary, I came down with my annual bout of bronchitis. My son's preschool teacher was Sikh (of the Western 3HO variety). Preet Kaur and I had become friends, and in order to soothe my distress, she brought me a mason jar full of Yogi Tea (made from the recipe developed by their teacher, Yogi Bhajan). This was around the time the original Yogi Tea company was formed (also a 3HO community), and they initially marketed a loose tea containing all the wonderful ingredients in this healing concoction. Preet Kaur instructed me to put equal parts of the rose-colored liquid from the mason jar with milk, warm it on the stove, add honey, and sip. It was ambrosia! And it felt so healing and soothing - partly because of the love that infused it. Preet Kaur taught me how to make it from scratch for myself, but if I was too busy, I could always buy the loose tea and boil it on the stove - filling the house with its amazing fragrance! But alas, the original formula is no longer marketed, and so if I wanted Yogi Tea, I had to get out my old recipe, find all the ingredients, and boil up a pot for myself. Which I did today, because I wanted some soothing Yogi Tea.
The house smells wonderful, and the tea hit the spot. The taste is not completely as I remember it (it is hard to duplicate the taste of a memory), but that may also be due to my lack of practice at mixing up this potion. As I sip it, I feel the healing love from thirty-one years ago (both from Preet Kaur, and from her religious community - a community that was a walk on the wild side for a first-year seminarian). Their love transcends all thoughts of linear time. I feel that love easing the sickness out of both body and soul. And I smile - and look out at the clouds moving in to bring healing rain to the earth - and feel very grateful.
I share this warm and soothing cup of tea with you today as a testimony to the healing, transforming presence of God - by whatever way or name God is known to you. When you open your heart to God's presence, God does indeed partner with you in the amazing journey of healing. The hard part of this truth is that it takes time - and it takes as much time as it takes. Time appears to not be a relevant or linear concept for God - whereas I am very conscious of time, and want unpleasant, uncomfortable situations to be fixed NOW. I want transformation YESTERDAY! And I want to escape the embarrassment of making mistakes TOMORROW - as well as the double embarrassment of repeating them (again and again and again)! I want to be the cool kid who effortlessly gets it right the first time (not the one who finally gets it right the two thousand and first time)!
Time - tenderness - acceptance - grace - mistakes - pain - laughter - more tenderness and acceptance - more grace - healing - wholeness - and time - and yes, more mistakes and pain, then laughter, and another turn around the spiral. It is an amazing journey, and worth every second that it takes - for it leads me back to my very essence (where God abides), and heals and transforms me by freeing me to be myself.
The storm clouds are rolling in - the rains will soon be here. I sip my cup of tea, and smile.
You have your own journey of discovery, healing and transformation to make. It is worth every second (or decade - or lifetime) it takes, my friend. It will take as long as it takes, and will be filled with all manner of wonderful and hard experiences - and that is perfectly fine. Happy trails!
Steeping myself in tenderness - taking my time - making another trip around the spiral, ever deeper -
and smiling,
Kim
