Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Waves of Gain

Yesterday the sun was shining and today the rain falls hard and solidly. Last week snow still blanketed the North and this week the muddy ruts challenge the biggest of four wheels while swollen rivers wash nearly all of winter away.

Restoration arrives with Easter.
Yesterday, determined to have a great day of insurance sales to shift my dependence upon my father back onto me where it belongs, I drove up the highway warmed by the sun and inspired by my thoughts. Several deep conversations later with no contracts sold but general agreement on the worrisome state of the economy, I despaired to think this may not be the vehicle for me.

Still with no actual date for my surgery and the great dark wall looming ever larger nevertheless, pressure builds to ensure I have done the emotional and spiritual healing before the scalpel breaks the skin. Considering the mind/body connection which seems so evident, I cannot afford to be dulled by depression, complacency or fear—especially when the affected area is the groin.

Root and Second Chakra issues in this case are too obvious to poo-poo or minimize. The very core of my being is unsettled, it seems, and the injury just an outward manifestation of the internal struggle that is raging. No surprise, then, that my ability to support myself seems also in question.

Where I have articulated the degree of acceptance of my plight over these many months, the immediacy of the surgery disrupts that comfort zone. More often, it feels like a kick to the stomach and I squirm with an ache more constant and irritating. The urgency to be done with this chapter grows intensely and fear proportionally hisses more loudly that I might never be.

Like the proverbial ducks, I line up the issues that are in turmoil and quickly grow alarmed and over-whelmed by the volume of gaps and inconsistencies remaining. In three years of writing this blog while rebuilding my life, so much has been learned, yet too much still feels the same. The scaffold collapse, at the time, was excused for being the culmination of uncertainty and a clear answer providentially, even if so painfully, delivered. Now the time since striking out on my own has doubled and I wonder if I am any farther forward.

Certainly, I am encouraged and supported by you, dear readers, who know me well. The response and comments indicate that all is perfect and the process unfolds just as it must.

I see where my own dramatic story is not unfamiliar and dissimilar from so many others. Apparently the planets are aligned and spirit energies are prevalent to deliver the highest lessons to the most people in the advancing times.

Without that universal perspective, I might certainly crumble. The weight is hard to bear, the tube so often too uncomfortable to stoically ignore. It has been suggested the approaching time of anesthesia might be the opportunity to decide if I have, in fact, had enough and no longer want to play the game, just give up my chips and walk away.

This frightens me.

The concept that we create our dis-ease dictates the corollary that we can and should be able to heal ourselves. Despite the solid assurance in my heart that I should and need to be writing, the tube in my belly and the lack of funds in my account suggest otherwise. Perhaps I should be looking harder, healing more in the days to come.

A regimen of long walks and quiet meditation is taking shape. Words are pouring forth onto this page and others. I am trying to rest when weary and stay focused when energetic. A balance of solitude and companionship feels appropriate. I am making no commitments for June and July.

After listening to a frightening statement about the true levels of radiation released into the atmosphere this last month, embedded in the rain that currently falls outside, my surgery seems like a little drop in a vast ocean of health problems, selfish and inconsequential. Perhaps the end of the world (as we know it) really will come true next year. If anyone survives (and I believe there will be many), I fully intend to be one, all the more healthy because of my surgery, wealthy because of my hard work and big heart, and all the wiser for daring to be passionately involved in relationships with myself and others around me, one beautiful soul in particular.

Long life to us all!

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