I've had to step away, and I'm not quite sure if I'm stepping back fully or not. You see, for the last 3-4 weeks, I've been immobilized by a back injury. In these 3-4 weeks, I've been forced to be still, rely on others for help, take a leave of absence from work, and I've been working on healing, which is happening but at a very slow rate - but it's happening.
In the course of a few days (interestingly enough corresponding with my husband's new hair cut and declaration that our lives need to change and transition), I found myself in severe pain due to (what would be discovered a few days later) a herniated disc (disc fragment) in the L5-S1 range.
I was give quite a few options: traction, steroids, or surgery. I've opted to do the traction to see if it would improve things, and it has been. Slowly, but surely.
Being still, I have realized just how fast my life has been spiraling. My children have grown in leaps and bounds. And over the last year and a half, I've been longing to slow down. One might argue that the universe was listening, because right now, I've been forced to slow down.
I don't think I've been more aware of the feel of my eldest's cheek, how large my youngest's hands are, the comfort holding my husband's hand brings (since hugging and snuggling are challenging). Through all of this, I find myself longing to write about it. To share what I've learned from my situation, and possibly about myself.
I'm not sure that I want to include it here... because I feel the need to give it it's own space to grow or pitter out if that is the case. It's a journey for certain. I suppose it's just a matter of taking the first step.
Join me if you wish...
http://playfulgracefulsteps.blogspot.com/
Showing posts with label healing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label healing. Show all posts
Monday, July 09, 2012
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Peace in the Pond
On Thursday, I ventured out into an area I've never been before on my own. I was meeting a friend and her family at a lake for some chatting and eating, and maybe, if I dared, for some swimming. I'm not fond of driving, especially driving into an area I don't know, it tends to unnerve me. I knew I wanted, no, that I needed to go. So, I went, and managed to find my way there.
It had been a while since I'd seen my friend. Our schedules just didn't seem to match up. And during the school year, with the schedules of the kiddos, it was virtually impossible. This time, the universe worked with us, and we were able to meet up.
My friend has a body that is slim and trim. She's got a few years on me, and rocks a bikini like you wouldn't believe. She was like a goddess, and greeted me with he trademark smile and glass of wine in hand, followed by a huge hug. She smelled like minty herbs.
I wanted to melt into her. Her love spills over onto who ever she meets. Her smile, lights up a room. She is so in tune with her spirituality and faith, that you just tend to feel peaceful when she talks about it.
We made our way to the chairs on the deck, to have a good chat while her kiddos played. It was lovely to reconnect with her. To catch up, as best two moms can with kiddos present.
And then, she was ready to swim. She dove off and into the water with such grace. "C'mon in!" she said.
I looked at the fish in the shallow end, and and raised an eyebrow. "I don't know..."
"The fish aren't like that over here. C'mon in! It's velvety goodness for the spirit!"
After what I've been through, a comment like that was hard for me to resist. So, I made my way down the ladder. I got into the dark pond water, trying not to freak out about the possibility of fish.
She was right. It was velvety. It was warm on the top, and then, you'd hit a pocket of cold water. It freaked me out a bit. I was nervous, but I trusted her. I couldn't see to the bottom. I couldn't feel the bottom (not that I wanted to feel the bottom of a pond, mind you, as it's rather slimy). I was entering the unknown. Soon, I found myself trying to find the pockets of cold water, bubbling up from a spring underneath.
I got out before her, and chatted while she swam. At one point, I watched her lay back, close her eyes, and just take it all in while she floated, trusting the water to support her. That's how she lives her life, trusting in something that is greater than she is. Letting herself be guided and listening.
I enjoyed being in the water, being with her, swimming and feeling the support... of many things. In that moment, I trusted, let go, and allowed myself to just be. My spirit soared, inspired by her zest and love for life.
Yes, it was indeed good for my spirit. Dare I even say it was good for my soul.
It had been a while since I'd seen my friend. Our schedules just didn't seem to match up. And during the school year, with the schedules of the kiddos, it was virtually impossible. This time, the universe worked with us, and we were able to meet up.
My friend has a body that is slim and trim. She's got a few years on me, and rocks a bikini like you wouldn't believe. She was like a goddess, and greeted me with he trademark smile and glass of wine in hand, followed by a huge hug. She smelled like minty herbs.
I wanted to melt into her. Her love spills over onto who ever she meets. Her smile, lights up a room. She is so in tune with her spirituality and faith, that you just tend to feel peaceful when she talks about it.
We made our way to the chairs on the deck, to have a good chat while her kiddos played. It was lovely to reconnect with her. To catch up, as best two moms can with kiddos present.
And then, she was ready to swim. She dove off and into the water with such grace. "C'mon in!" she said.
I looked at the fish in the shallow end, and and raised an eyebrow. "I don't know..."
"The fish aren't like that over here. C'mon in! It's velvety goodness for the spirit!"
After what I've been through, a comment like that was hard for me to resist. So, I made my way down the ladder. I got into the dark pond water, trying not to freak out about the possibility of fish.
She was right. It was velvety. It was warm on the top, and then, you'd hit a pocket of cold water. It freaked me out a bit. I was nervous, but I trusted her. I couldn't see to the bottom. I couldn't feel the bottom (not that I wanted to feel the bottom of a pond, mind you, as it's rather slimy). I was entering the unknown. Soon, I found myself trying to find the pockets of cold water, bubbling up from a spring underneath.
I got out before her, and chatted while she swam. At one point, I watched her lay back, close her eyes, and just take it all in while she floated, trusting the water to support her. That's how she lives her life, trusting in something that is greater than she is. Letting herself be guided and listening.
I enjoyed being in the water, being with her, swimming and feeling the support... of many things. In that moment, I trusted, let go, and allowed myself to just be. My spirit soared, inspired by her zest and love for life.
Yes, it was indeed good for my spirit. Dare I even say it was good for my soul.
Monday, June 21, 2010
Belated Reflections on June 17
June 17th is the birth day of a dear friend of mine. April 17th was the day of his death. I've see-sawed between the depths of sadness, and moments of joy. I've thought I was okay, only to burst into tears. I've spiraled down to the depths of a depression, and made my way back up to the surface.
At times I've treaded life's water until I was exhausted. I've had to make some pretty challenging decisions over the last half of the year, and there are still a few to make. And on June 17th, while mourning the absence of my friend, I discovered a rare and precious gift.
It was a day with the girls, and we spent most of it at the outlets. I knew it was going to be an interesting day when the reminder that it was R's birthday popped up on my screen, and I burst into tears.
It wasn't the first time I would shed a few. Cardinals (a bird my daughter told me would let us know that R was okay) were every where in the stores. I was late meeting up with the girls for lunch, as the sadness overwhelmed me. My appetite was not there, but I ate something to keep my blood sugar up, and we pressed on.
At dinner, I could feel it again. I was emotionally warn, and didn't want to burden the three lovely friends that were with me. When my dinner arrived, and it just wasn't very good, I closed my eyes and hoped they'd think I was just tired. But they new better.
When I returned from a bathroom break, they told me to sit down, and then, they did something amazing. They asked me what I needed. And when I told them I didn't know, they said that was okay, that they were there for me.
Eventually I confessed that I really wanted to be on the beach at night, standing in front of the waves, and honor my friend in some way. And so, we drove down the road a bit, hopped out of the car in the freezing cold, and trekked onto the sandy beach. We gathered together, sang songs, laughed, and huddled to stay warm.
And then, they asked me, what would I say to someone who was hurting as I was? What would I say to another? And I broke down. Because I have always been there for others, yet never really been there for me. And here, were 3 of my dearest friends encouraging me to nurture myself in ways that I've nurtured them. And all I could do was cry.
So there we stood, upon the shore, as I cried and they held me. And my one friend asked R to reach through her to me. (R practiced reiki.) And I know exactly the moment, because I felt the energy, and I felt my body relax as she held my hands. And it was one of the most powerful moments I've ever experienced.
Before we left, we stood watching the waves. I'd been enthralled by the waves since my arrival, and my friend C reminded me of this, and then asked me to think of what the word wave meant. And that maybe, just maybe, this was R's way of waving to me. I'd seen the cardinals. I'd shed the tears, and now, when I look at the waves, I can't help but wonder if he was waving to me.
I also wondered if R ever liked the beach. It would be a few days later when I discovered he used to work at a beach, selling umbrellas. Goosebumps, I tell you.
One thing is certain, I'll not look at them in the same way. And when I see waves, I now want to wave back. They say that salt water heals all things - via sweat, tears, and the sea. You know, I think there's something to that.
At times I've treaded life's water until I was exhausted. I've had to make some pretty challenging decisions over the last half of the year, and there are still a few to make. And on June 17th, while mourning the absence of my friend, I discovered a rare and precious gift.
It was a day with the girls, and we spent most of it at the outlets. I knew it was going to be an interesting day when the reminder that it was R's birthday popped up on my screen, and I burst into tears.
It wasn't the first time I would shed a few. Cardinals (a bird my daughter told me would let us know that R was okay) were every where in the stores. I was late meeting up with the girls for lunch, as the sadness overwhelmed me. My appetite was not there, but I ate something to keep my blood sugar up, and we pressed on.
At dinner, I could feel it again. I was emotionally warn, and didn't want to burden the three lovely friends that were with me. When my dinner arrived, and it just wasn't very good, I closed my eyes and hoped they'd think I was just tired. But they new better.
When I returned from a bathroom break, they told me to sit down, and then, they did something amazing. They asked me what I needed. And when I told them I didn't know, they said that was okay, that they were there for me.
Eventually I confessed that I really wanted to be on the beach at night, standing in front of the waves, and honor my friend in some way. And so, we drove down the road a bit, hopped out of the car in the freezing cold, and trekked onto the sandy beach. We gathered together, sang songs, laughed, and huddled to stay warm.
And then, they asked me, what would I say to someone who was hurting as I was? What would I say to another? And I broke down. Because I have always been there for others, yet never really been there for me. And here, were 3 of my dearest friends encouraging me to nurture myself in ways that I've nurtured them. And all I could do was cry.
So there we stood, upon the shore, as I cried and they held me. And my one friend asked R to reach through her to me. (R practiced reiki.) And I know exactly the moment, because I felt the energy, and I felt my body relax as she held my hands. And it was one of the most powerful moments I've ever experienced.
Before we left, we stood watching the waves. I'd been enthralled by the waves since my arrival, and my friend C reminded me of this, and then asked me to think of what the word wave meant. And that maybe, just maybe, this was R's way of waving to me. I'd seen the cardinals. I'd shed the tears, and now, when I look at the waves, I can't help but wonder if he was waving to me.
I also wondered if R ever liked the beach. It would be a few days later when I discovered he used to work at a beach, selling umbrellas. Goosebumps, I tell you.
One thing is certain, I'll not look at them in the same way. And when I see waves, I now want to wave back. They say that salt water heals all things - via sweat, tears, and the sea. You know, I think there's something to that.
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Best Compliment Ever
This has been an interesting year for me in terms of relationships. There has been a lot of pain, a lot of joy, and a lot of healing. As summer comes to and end, I have realized that I've been truly blessed this year.
I've reconnected with old friends, made new ones, and found something that I was missing. I've found people that I can let go and just be me with. There's no fear of judgment from them, nor that feeling of inadequacy as a friend or person. There are no limits or measurements. I can just let go, and be me. And the beauty is, that I've been discovering more of me in the process.
This has been a full summer of traveling, family and friends. It's been a summer of healing, of pushing boundaries, of whirlwind travel. It's been a summer of fun and love, of creating JOY. Where as my heart was once feeling the pain, it's filled to the brim and pouring over with love. I've been so scared to open my heart. And then when I did, I found only love.
And then this morning, I read this in my email:
"It's rare to find people that we are just free to be ourselves around. You are definitely one of these people for me, and I am SO happy to be one of those people for you. I feel at home with you. It's that simple, that beautiful, and that profound. "
Yes my friend, yes it is.
I've reconnected with old friends, made new ones, and found something that I was missing. I've found people that I can let go and just be me with. There's no fear of judgment from them, nor that feeling of inadequacy as a friend or person. There are no limits or measurements. I can just let go, and be me. And the beauty is, that I've been discovering more of me in the process.
This has been a full summer of traveling, family and friends. It's been a summer of healing, of pushing boundaries, of whirlwind travel. It's been a summer of fun and love, of creating JOY. Where as my heart was once feeling the pain, it's filled to the brim and pouring over with love. I've been so scared to open my heart. And then when I did, I found only love.
And then this morning, I read this in my email:
"It's rare to find people that we are just free to be ourselves around. You are definitely one of these people for me, and I am SO happy to be one of those people for you. I feel at home with you. It's that simple, that beautiful, and that profound. "
Yes my friend, yes it is.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
May - The month of healing, compassion, gratitude, and moments
I sit here, my vacation almost over, my heart overflowing with love and gratitude. It has been an incredible adventure, with plans gone awry, amazing people, nights lasting until 5 am, pomegranate margaritas and wine, and dear, dear friends.
I began the month with an event that resulted in a much needed healing. A door opened, a light went on, and I was able to let go of years of pain, frustration, and heartache. It was replaced with compassion, joy, and love.
Throughout the month, I've been able to reflect, embrace and bask in joy. Sunny days with my little loves, more events that led to enlightening (or the light shinning brighter). Taking time to stop and breathe, and discovering hidden gifts everywhere. I've learned that I enjoy cooking, exploring new foods and tastes, and allowing myself to let go and just sense and feel things.
I've ended this month by basking in the hugs and company of family and friends, and experiencing more healing. Though I wasn't able to meet up with everyone we wanted to, we were able to meet up with quite a few amazing people.
I basked in the sun's light. I dared to let things go. I was careful where I needed to be, and embraced adventure. I reconnected with friends of old and new.
I feel as though I've gotten closure on many things. I've released many, many things. I've embraced many things. All in all, May has been an incredible month. I wonder what June shall bring...
I began the month with an event that resulted in a much needed healing. A door opened, a light went on, and I was able to let go of years of pain, frustration, and heartache. It was replaced with compassion, joy, and love.
Throughout the month, I've been able to reflect, embrace and bask in joy. Sunny days with my little loves, more events that led to enlightening (or the light shinning brighter). Taking time to stop and breathe, and discovering hidden gifts everywhere. I've learned that I enjoy cooking, exploring new foods and tastes, and allowing myself to let go and just sense and feel things.
I've ended this month by basking in the hugs and company of family and friends, and experiencing more healing. Though I wasn't able to meet up with everyone we wanted to, we were able to meet up with quite a few amazing people.
I basked in the sun's light. I dared to let things go. I was careful where I needed to be, and embraced adventure. I reconnected with friends of old and new.
I feel as though I've gotten closure on many things. I've released many, many things. I've embraced many things. All in all, May has been an incredible month. I wonder what June shall bring...
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