When I am Weak, I am Strong: sickness the great leveller
It's been weeks and weeks of refining equanimity in the face of physical frailty. I must admit that "The Season" often takes its toll on me. This is frustrating since I put a lot of energy into ensuring grand adventures for me and my family, 2019 saw us on a mega roadtrip through Namibia and paddle down the Orange River, only to be somewhat hampered by my constitution.
However, along with illness comes the invitation to be ever more attentive to the needs of our own dear bodies -- physical, emotional, mental and spiritual. As I think of it, our body is our best teacher since it is inescapable and utterly honest.
Respectfully I refer to my Guru Body and as with all really good teachers, the lessons are often very hard indeed.
More than one person has said, rather unkindly I might add, "How could you be sick? You lead such a healthy lifestyle?"
And really it's less and less the case that I succumb to infections. I wrote about my simple recipe for healthy living here. I was a fairly sickly young person. Always hugely sensitive and unable to partake in the excesses I saw were common in those around me. After receiving the German Measles Vaccine at age 12, I secretly suffered from debilitating M.E. throughout my busy High School career.
Early onset menopause hit with a bang in my late 30s brought on by a traumatic passage. For those who don't hold any stock in astrology, bear with me, Pluto has been transiting my chart since that crazy crucible -- Pluto being the planet that brings...well, you can read about Pluto Transits here should you be so inclined.
Thank you dear Ilona for your insights & magnificent Moon Calendar, the gracious guidance is much appreciated.
While wrestling with that sudden massive menopausal sea change, I also started to suffer from the unrelenting pain of fibromyalgia and osteoarthritis (these genetic/karmic bonds) concomitant with the much joked about menopausal symptoms, which are hardly a laughing matter...though laughter can save you from going stark raving mad I suppose. It's not much fun being not yet 40 but feeling at least 90. It does awaken a depth of understanding though for those who are aged or struggling with chronic illness. Compassion is often only come by the hard way.
All of my struggles with my frailty I kept very quiet. I felt that admitting to poor health was an admission of unworthiness or mysteriously evidence of weakness of character. I am also wary of labels. Words have power. And as we identify ourselves, so shall we be. Yet it's also important to be honest with ourselves. To face the music. The same is true of my struggles with crippling depression...and really the first time I admitted anything of this arduous battle was in memory of losing my brother to suicide.
Something I've noticed is that things have a habit of intensifying to a point where denial is futile, if we don't take radical responsibility for ourselves and stop playing the blame game
The great Maya Angelou said in "Letter to My Daughter":
“Let's tell the truth to people. When people ask, 'How are you?' have the nerve sometimes to answer truthfully. You must know, however, that people will start avoiding you because, they, too, have knees that pain them and heads that hurt and they don't want to know about yours. But think of it this way: If people avoid you, you will have more time to meditate and do fine research on a cure for whatever truly afflicts you.”
She also said:
"There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you."
I always know exactly the moment when sickness takes root. It comes when I allow myself to think that I'm separate. This separating out is the root of all suffering I find in my own life. If we simply allow ourselves to feel our feelings, but resist the urge to cling to them, then the end result is only love.
I would like to thank the full moon for administering the purgative of dreams.
So many dreams. So healing. They came in a holy trinity: the night before the full moon I was in a haunted house -- cluttered, dark, filled to the brim with family. The night of the full moon I was travelling from place to place and awoke while looking through empty rooms furnished only with simple beds. The place was cold and distant. A wolf was expected. The night after the full moon I was sleeping out in the open beside the river, beneath the stars. Freedom. I believe a house in dreams often represents The Self. And this beautiful summation of past, present & future is exactly as I see it. Edging my way out of the prison walls.
The thing about being imprisoned/embodied is that only we ourselves hold the key to our liberation.
I remember approaching the teacher several days into unadulterated suffering on a 10 day Vipassana Meditation Retreat to ask about the searing pain that would not leave me and her answer was simple: "When will you stop reacting?"
I'd like to thank AirBnB Experience for giving me the opportunity to facilitate the necessity of walking my walk, alone together with others who bravely keep showing up for themselves step by step. The walks this week were not easy to do what with feeling so poorly, but they were profoundly healing.
I never wanted to burden anyone with my weakness.
But rather than pretending anything, feel what you're feeling right now. In this moment.
And then notice that you're something more than that.
No matter how demanding of your attention suffering can be, there is a peace underpinning it all.
It's true that unrelenting pain can make one grumpy, to say the least, but it can also foster humility and gratitude for those moments when the pain is not all consuming. St Paul's "thorn in the flesh" had him beseeching "the Lord thrice, that it might depart from him." But the answer was Grace and he earned his sainthood by evolving to the point where he could attest to taking "pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in
persecutions, in distresses... for when I am weak, then
am I strong." 2 Corinthians 12:8-10.
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However, along with illness comes the invitation to be ever more attentive to the needs of our own dear bodies -- physical, emotional, mental and spiritual. As I think of it, our body is our best teacher since it is inescapable and utterly honest.
Respectfully I refer to my Guru Body and as with all really good teachers, the lessons are often very hard indeed.
More than one person has said, rather unkindly I might add, "How could you be sick? You lead such a healthy lifestyle?"
And really it's less and less the case that I succumb to infections. I wrote about my simple recipe for healthy living here. I was a fairly sickly young person. Always hugely sensitive and unable to partake in the excesses I saw were common in those around me. After receiving the German Measles Vaccine at age 12, I secretly suffered from debilitating M.E. throughout my busy High School career.
Early onset menopause hit with a bang in my late 30s brought on by a traumatic passage. For those who don't hold any stock in astrology, bear with me, Pluto has been transiting my chart since that crazy crucible -- Pluto being the planet that brings...well, you can read about Pluto Transits here should you be so inclined.
Thank you dear Ilona for your insights & magnificent Moon Calendar, the gracious guidance is much appreciated.
While wrestling with that sudden massive menopausal sea change, I also started to suffer from the unrelenting pain of fibromyalgia and osteoarthritis (these genetic/karmic bonds) concomitant with the much joked about menopausal symptoms, which are hardly a laughing matter...though laughter can save you from going stark raving mad I suppose. It's not much fun being not yet 40 but feeling at least 90. It does awaken a depth of understanding though for those who are aged or struggling with chronic illness. Compassion is often only come by the hard way.
All of my struggles with my frailty I kept very quiet. I felt that admitting to poor health was an admission of unworthiness or mysteriously evidence of weakness of character. I am also wary of labels. Words have power. And as we identify ourselves, so shall we be. Yet it's also important to be honest with ourselves. To face the music. The same is true of my struggles with crippling depression...and really the first time I admitted anything of this arduous battle was in memory of losing my brother to suicide.
Something I've noticed is that things have a habit of intensifying to a point where denial is futile, if we don't take radical responsibility for ourselves and stop playing the blame game
The great Maya Angelou said in "Letter to My Daughter":
“Let's tell the truth to people. When people ask, 'How are you?' have the nerve sometimes to answer truthfully. You must know, however, that people will start avoiding you because, they, too, have knees that pain them and heads that hurt and they don't want to know about yours. But think of it this way: If people avoid you, you will have more time to meditate and do fine research on a cure for whatever truly afflicts you.”
She also said:
"There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you."
I always know exactly the moment when sickness takes root. It comes when I allow myself to think that I'm separate. This separating out is the root of all suffering I find in my own life. If we simply allow ourselves to feel our feelings, but resist the urge to cling to them, then the end result is only love.
I would like to thank the full moon for administering the purgative of dreams.
So many dreams. So healing. They came in a holy trinity: the night before the full moon I was in a haunted house -- cluttered, dark, filled to the brim with family. The night of the full moon I was travelling from place to place and awoke while looking through empty rooms furnished only with simple beds. The place was cold and distant. A wolf was expected. The night after the full moon I was sleeping out in the open beside the river, beneath the stars. Freedom. I believe a house in dreams often represents The Self. And this beautiful summation of past, present & future is exactly as I see it. Edging my way out of the prison walls.
The thing about being imprisoned/embodied is that only we ourselves hold the key to our liberation.
I remember approaching the teacher several days into unadulterated suffering on a 10 day Vipassana Meditation Retreat to ask about the searing pain that would not leave me and her answer was simple: "When will you stop reacting?"
I'd like to thank AirBnB Experience for giving me the opportunity to facilitate the necessity of walking my walk, alone together with others who bravely keep showing up for themselves step by step. The walks this week were not easy to do what with feeling so poorly, but they were profoundly healing.
I never wanted to burden anyone with my weakness.
But rather than pretending anything, feel what you're feeling right now. In this moment.
And then notice that you're something more than that.
No matter how demanding of your attention suffering can be, there is a peace underpinning it all.
As with all things worth learning in this little life, it is not easily achieved nor clung to. The ideal of perfect health is possibly wrong headed. We are always in flux, this is the law of nature and we are very much a part of all things. While there is suffering in our world, we will suffer.
In the mean time: be kind.
Subscribe to Foot Sore & Fancy Free by Email
And please verify your email address (check your junkmail!)
Thanks :)
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