It's 1.12 am and I am awake. Nothing unusual in that - comes free of charge as part of the CFS/FM package. Funny, sometimes I am so exhausted I can't do anything - yet sleep still eludes me. My body seriously aches - like I've done a few rounds with Mohammed Ali - and this hard bed is not doing me any favours. (Note to self - must get soft mattress soon!). I can't lie on my side as my hip is in so much pain, yet I never learned to sleep on my back. I have a gentle restlessness I can't appease - that feeling I get when I can't do anything to make it go - except write. So here I am.
Despite all that I also have an indescribable sense of peace and the bubblings of a little joy starting to trickle from within. I have been lying here just aware of the peace outside and the stillness. I am aware of the pain, but not consumed by it. I have acknowledged it and accepted it and somehow that has released my thoughts from it. I opened my blind and through the silhouette of trees standing guard around my window I watched the stars - bold and brilliant.
Looking at them reminded me of a time when in the remoteness of the New Mexico wilderness I emerged from an intense session in a sweat lodge and fell back on the chilly desert and stared at the stars. They appeared to drip like liquid diamonds and I lost all sense of where I ended and the universe began.
I used to have such a sense of wonder, believed in things like synchronicity and serendipity. I had a spirit that was aware of the supernatural and would see situations come together in seemingly miraculous ways. I took journeys and saw miracles - I didn't concern myself with what my 5 year plan was - I lived for the journey not the destination, and through that I grew and learned who I was. I met the most amazing people who came into my life and out just as quickly - leaving me with a resonance of some truth or memory that grew into a rich inner tapestry.
Despite all that I also have an indescribable sense of peace and the bubblings of a little joy starting to trickle from within. I have been lying here just aware of the peace outside and the stillness. I am aware of the pain, but not consumed by it. I have acknowledged it and accepted it and somehow that has released my thoughts from it. I opened my blind and through the silhouette of trees standing guard around my window I watched the stars - bold and brilliant.
Looking at them reminded me of a time when in the remoteness of the New Mexico wilderness I emerged from an intense session in a sweat lodge and fell back on the chilly desert and stared at the stars. They appeared to drip like liquid diamonds and I lost all sense of where I ended and the universe began.
I used to have such a sense of wonder, believed in things like synchronicity and serendipity. I had a spirit that was aware of the supernatural and would see situations come together in seemingly miraculous ways. I took journeys and saw miracles - I didn't concern myself with what my 5 year plan was - I lived for the journey not the destination, and through that I grew and learned who I was. I met the most amazing people who came into my life and out just as quickly - leaving me with a resonance of some truth or memory that grew into a rich inner tapestry.
Somewhere along the way I lost this awe. I began to strive. I lost my way. I wanted to achieve, to fix. I'm not going back all over that again, but it's got me thinking I want to reunite with that part of myself that saw the profound in the ordinary.
This illness has given me that opportunity. On days when I can't stand up straight and still feel dizzy sitting up, I have learned to lie and close my eyes and be still. I watch my thoughts come and go, acknowledging yet not judging them anymore. I guess you could call it a meditative state - who knows - I don't want to label anything anymore - but these moments give me a sense of timelessness and peace.
Tonight as I lay here I began to get a sense of awe and wonder again. Of being part of something bigger than myself. A sense of God within and without. I realize the lie that old comrades Loneliness and Isolation whisper in my ear and resolve to spend more time with Gratitude and Meditation. Most days lately I don't have much choice to do much else - but I do have a choice about who I allow to keep me company. And as I continue to still my mind and spirit, Synchronicity and Serendipity are my friends again.
I marvel at the landscape and it's ability to provide healing for you. When I lived in New Mexico the openness and vastness of the desert encouraged me to be open and get a glimpse of the vastness of the human spirit. Moving to the Sunshine Coast 12 years ago and walking by the ocean every morning washed my heart and energized my mind and spirit. Sailing up the jungle rivers in the Philippines to deliver aid taught me to take the road less travelled and enjoy the challenges and surprising joys of a life less comfortable.
When I returned to the Sunshine Coast last year I couldn't handle the energy of the ocean - it was too disturbing and made me feel bombarded. I wasn't ready for being energized. It took me a while to realize and accept this as I have always loved the ocean, but now I live in a forest. Here, my cocoon is calm, shaded and cool. The trees surround me like sentinels. Their cover dapples and shades me from the harshness of the daylight. The gentle breezes waft through their leaves and create a peaceful sound. And at night my guards are adorned with stars - my diamonds - that remind me to be still and smile.
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ReplyDeleteBe still...something I still have trouble doing...I want to, though.
ReplyDeleteYou write so well and I hope the "bubblings of a little joy starting to trickle from within" have turned into torrents.
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