There's a bug going 'round here, that whollops you over the head, kicks you when you're lying there with stars spinning, wondering what just happened, and every time you think you can stand up, it knocks you flatter than before, more bruises, and every time it flattens you, stomps all over you and spits you out, foul and dazed. There's very little breath left; no pride; your color is translucent gray, and the stuff you thought you knew about life is in pieces, like a scattered puzzle, with some of what you need now missing. And weeks later, you're still sick.
Me? I did everything right. I got big-guns tea from the Naturopath, OTC's and Rx's from my MD; I took just enough Golden Seal and Zinc, starved it when I fevered, rested till the chores piled high, drank water till I thought I'd pop. It's the beginning of the fourth week of illness for me. I think I'm on the upswing, but I've said that at least 5 times before, I've lost count of Hope. Tomorrow I could find myself just flying by the guy who holds the 'Stop Ride' switch, wishing he'd at least NOTICE that I am a desperate rider, flailing, scared gray, and who threw up a few rounds back. You know the look.
Well, it came to me that there must be more to this illness than just the virus. There's some other component, something that needed to be figured out--those missing pieces--that have to do with my inner life and how I face it, and ways I need to grow, STAT. I felt this way because everytime I started to feel better, I'd gingerly step out of my bedroom and try to do something I'd been wanting to do for some time (weeks is a long time to be sick), and the illness would not allow it, would trounce me again, laughing in my face.
The last straw was yesterday, when a professional, internationally known teacher I had asked to come to Portland a year ago had finally decided to come, and was going to teach classes on a subject I really wanted to learn FROM HER. When I found out she was coming, I was so thrilled! Finally! I get to study under this woman! What a golden, shining chance has arisen! It also looked like I might even get to take her up to the sacred mountain, Mt St Helens, 'Apu Loo Wit', Sacred Grandmother. I'd never met this woman before, just heard great things, and this opportunity was unrivaled in my excitement: to be able to openly converse with her for hours on end.....AND show off this region's Great Spirit...!
I got sicker than ever. High fever, cough that wouldn't let me breathe. That Golden Shining Chance disappeared as fast as it had presented itself. Drat, and I'm starting to get just plain pissed off. Weeks of sickness, energy supply gone aways back, and this woman was not going to be here forever, this authority I had invited, and waited nearly a year to see.
I couldn't go to the classes I had signed up for....so took one more chance and decided to sign up for her last class, on the very last day she was to be here. I drank my cough medicine, though the fever was gone (again) I took two aspirin, a few cough drops, my note pad, and drove off into the sunshiney land of High Hopes the day of the class. "Angels", I said, "Please! PLEASE!!! Let me do this ONE thing."
A coughing fit crashed in 20 minutes into the class, and I had to leave. The freeway was stop and go for the next 2 hours. I am so pissed off I am crying, spitting, kicking, swearing. I get home and I start THROWING the groceries into the fridge. Literally. Yelling, furious, like a half-grown mountain lion that's had it's dinner taken away for the last time MAD.
...........................................Now I'm also deeply embarrased. I go down to the river, my meadow in the trees, my bit of the creek where the fish know me, where the trees and aromas hold me, and the breeze on my face is caressing, familiar. I sit for some time with these forgiving friends, seething still, until I can breathe. Praying to whatever!! hears. I WANT THOSE MISSING PIECES, AND I WANT THEM NOW.
NOW. " I'm done 'trying' to get well, you jerk Universe. I've got it thrashed out that I need just a couple vital bits, now GIVE THEM TO ME."
I go up to my room. Two words come to me, so strongly do I hear them that they have color, have tenderness that's palpable. I've known them both for so long, thought I deeply understood them, believed them, leaned on them for years like old familiar walking sticks.
Not so much. That was book-learining. Now they hit my heart.
Acceptance. and Hope. ...................... Huh. .......................................................................
The moment I hear these land in my soul, I feel them plant themselves there--it's a physical sensation. I know I am getting better. And I have more than Hope. I have Faith, which is Hope, grounded. Faith that whatever the Great Creationist doles out, it's OK, no matter what shit comes down. No Matter What Shit Comes Down. I know I ain't seen nothin' yet.
Easy for the Monk to be all holy and kind while he's up on the mountain--bring him down into the thick of things and we'll see what he's really made of.
I intend to be the best, the person I Most Want To Be. Now, and again Tomorrow.
Glad I got sick, wish I'd looked for those pieces sooner. But then, I wouldn't have noticed them--I'd thought I already knew them. They'd have blended into the familiarity of the path.
Now I think I really Get it. Tomorrow when I awaken, I really will be well. ALL well, ready for service again, to myself, and to others. The Puzzle is complete. Thank you for hearing me, whoever.
Thank you for this dreadful Grace.
Me? I did everything right. I got big-guns tea from the Naturopath, OTC's and Rx's from my MD; I took just enough Golden Seal and Zinc, starved it when I fevered, rested till the chores piled high, drank water till I thought I'd pop. It's the beginning of the fourth week of illness for me. I think I'm on the upswing, but I've said that at least 5 times before, I've lost count of Hope. Tomorrow I could find myself just flying by the guy who holds the 'Stop Ride' switch, wishing he'd at least NOTICE that I am a desperate rider, flailing, scared gray, and who threw up a few rounds back. You know the look.
Well, it came to me that there must be more to this illness than just the virus. There's some other component, something that needed to be figured out--those missing pieces--that have to do with my inner life and how I face it, and ways I need to grow, STAT. I felt this way because everytime I started to feel better, I'd gingerly step out of my bedroom and try to do something I'd been wanting to do for some time (weeks is a long time to be sick), and the illness would not allow it, would trounce me again, laughing in my face.
The last straw was yesterday, when a professional, internationally known teacher I had asked to come to Portland a year ago had finally decided to come, and was going to teach classes on a subject I really wanted to learn FROM HER. When I found out she was coming, I was so thrilled! Finally! I get to study under this woman! What a golden, shining chance has arisen! It also looked like I might even get to take her up to the sacred mountain, Mt St Helens, 'Apu Loo Wit', Sacred Grandmother. I'd never met this woman before, just heard great things, and this opportunity was unrivaled in my excitement: to be able to openly converse with her for hours on end.....AND show off this region's Great Spirit...!
I got sicker than ever. High fever, cough that wouldn't let me breathe. That Golden Shining Chance disappeared as fast as it had presented itself. Drat, and I'm starting to get just plain pissed off. Weeks of sickness, energy supply gone aways back, and this woman was not going to be here forever, this authority I had invited, and waited nearly a year to see.
I couldn't go to the classes I had signed up for....so took one more chance and decided to sign up for her last class, on the very last day she was to be here. I drank my cough medicine, though the fever was gone (again) I took two aspirin, a few cough drops, my note pad, and drove off into the sunshiney land of High Hopes the day of the class. "Angels", I said, "Please! PLEASE!!! Let me do this ONE thing."
A coughing fit crashed in 20 minutes into the class, and I had to leave. The freeway was stop and go for the next 2 hours. I am so pissed off I am crying, spitting, kicking, swearing. I get home and I start THROWING the groceries into the fridge. Literally. Yelling, furious, like a half-grown mountain lion that's had it's dinner taken away for the last time MAD.
...........................................Now I'm also deeply embarrased. I go down to the river, my meadow in the trees, my bit of the creek where the fish know me, where the trees and aromas hold me, and the breeze on my face is caressing, familiar. I sit for some time with these forgiving friends, seething still, until I can breathe. Praying to whatever!! hears. I WANT THOSE MISSING PIECES, AND I WANT THEM NOW.
NOW. " I'm done 'trying' to get well, you jerk Universe. I've got it thrashed out that I need just a couple vital bits, now GIVE THEM TO ME."
I go up to my room. Two words come to me, so strongly do I hear them that they have color, have tenderness that's palpable. I've known them both for so long, thought I deeply understood them, believed them, leaned on them for years like old familiar walking sticks.
Not so much. That was book-learining. Now they hit my heart.
Acceptance. and Hope. ...................... Huh. .......................................................................
The moment I hear these land in my soul, I feel them plant themselves there--it's a physical sensation. I know I am getting better. And I have more than Hope. I have Faith, which is Hope, grounded. Faith that whatever the Great Creationist doles out, it's OK, no matter what shit comes down. No Matter What Shit Comes Down. I know I ain't seen nothin' yet.
Easy for the Monk to be all holy and kind while he's up on the mountain--bring him down into the thick of things and we'll see what he's really made of.
I intend to be the best, the person I Most Want To Be. Now, and again Tomorrow.
Glad I got sick, wish I'd looked for those pieces sooner. But then, I wouldn't have noticed them--I'd thought I already knew them. They'd have blended into the familiarity of the path.
Now I think I really Get it. Tomorrow when I awaken, I really will be well. ALL well, ready for service again, to myself, and to others. The Puzzle is complete. Thank you for hearing me, whoever.
Thank you for this dreadful Grace.
