A Necessary Break

Today I cried. A lot.

Yesterday I traveled over the hill to an herbalism course hosted by HAALo in Nevada City, CA. It was a wonderfully in depth course about the Lyme disease treatment protocol by Stephen Buhner I have been using since earlier this year. I learned the newest cutting edge work happening in treating the disease by rekindling a relationship with the natural world. But more, I was able to share my story with other people who are also working through the disease. I was supported and encouraged  by others who are living with the same pain. In a little more than a year, I have come to deeply understand what it means to be impermanent. I have contemplated mortality from a new point of view. I have tremored with weakness against the will of my body and mind. I have often given up on hope, and found it again. I have meditated with a new fire because I know time is too short for the work I have to do. And I have fallen in love over and over because who knows when my last breath will be. I have found a powerful relationship with the herbs that have begun to cleanse and heal me. I learned how to make a tincture, wild harvest herbs, listen to my body, feel the blood moving in my veins, rest, ...and pray.

Yesterday I realized how hard I've been on myself. For the past several weeks meditation has been deeply painful. Since the last "realization," I have felt conflicted, afraid, confused, and impatient. Again, I have realized that grasping desire and not renunciation spatter my thoughts with stains of pain. I have come to this place before. I remember writing it in a book. "I do not have bodhichitta." I no longer look at my eyes with compassion. I see myself in the mirror and judge what I see. I look at my scars with irritation. I curse my body for not being perfect. I curse my mind for failing. And when I sit, I'm flooded with painful thought streams that scream at me, reminding me of the way I felt "before." I hold myself not with compassion for being on a healing path while holding so much pain in the hope of transmuting it so others don't have to feel it- but with anger that I don't know how.

I have the desire to have bodhichitta. 

This cascade of illness and healing crisis are a blessing. I have come a long way since going to the emergency room last June with the severe onset of Lyme disease that was already having a traumatic impact on my brain and central nervous system. And only weeks ago, on the beautiful hillside looking out over the regenerating lands, I realized a little bit of my capacity to be a vessel for the divine. How quickly hopelessness can set in. And then I was brought to my knees in prayer, asking for blessings. Time to heal. How wonderful it is that I can take this time to be in silence, prayer, meditation, crying, and re-connection  And today, it clicked. I know how I came to be in this sickness cascade. Somewhere in-between I stopped loving- my self first- and  unavoidably everyone else. I forgot. Isolated. Listened to the uncomfortable 12-inches in my mind.

Now, tea. tears. remembering.

I'm so thankful for the blessing of illness. To remember the internal waters that flow without effort. My resilience. To dance again in a dim room because I can. The miracle of breath- moving gracefully through and binding me back together after falling into a thousand sparkling pieces.

Sparkling. Shimmering. Glittering. Radiant. Beautiful. Powerful. Joyful and mourning. Grateful and sad. Blessed and supported. Singing and silent. Listening. Loving. Loved.

Understanding the root of how this came to be, I can now work toward well being, healing, and wholeness. I'm not feeling afraid anymore. Everythings O.K!