Absolute healing

The body, as we probably all know by now, stores emotions and memory and that process doesn’t ever stop. In effect, our cells “are” the stories we embody; each one of them began life as a particular story that they took on as their guiding aspect in the womb and they have continued repeating that same story time and time again (our liver has a story that it is a liver, our eye that it is an eye), which is how we remain here in human form. As I recently explored in a post on my other blog, the countless stories we are the  composite of are not “bad” and it is a nonsense to think we must fight them or drop them by the wayside to live a spiritual life beyond having a story (that would mean surrendering our human form entirely – and the word for that is death); yet we need to be selective about which ones we keep and which ones are calling for release so that we get to choose patterns that serve us and reflect who we truly are in this moment, not at some time in the past.

Even though I have undergone some monumental releases of old emotions and memories from my own body (I give you my most recent post Love Letter to Myself as point in case), I still keep on creating more emotions which take up residence in my human body…and we all do, that’s called being human. My mental visual is that the body’s cellular structures, its finest most cobwebby strings of enzymes and fluids, its fascia in particular and then the groups of cells that make up entire muscles (perhaps especially the psoas), organs and skin serve like washing lines on which we “peg” our most emotive memories, intending to deal with them “another day”; particularly when they hold a charge that we are not quite ready to deal with in the moment when they occur. Typically, something happens to generate an emotional response in our day and we are busy doing other things, or it touches upon an old nerve, or we haven’t quite got the tools yet with which to clean up the out-of-resonance feeling that it triggers, and so we peg it there for later…and it can remain there attached to that cellular washing line (and then remain there and remain there and remain there…) for a very long time, snowballing into something that gets bigger and, often, more distorted. In time, like attracts to like and so emotions around a particular theme form crystalline structures in the part of the body that we have selected to become “its” storage area. This instigate restrictions in flow, then hard nodules of pain, then wholesale breakdowns in function…and all because we allowed emotions to build up without checking back in to to see what was calling for our attention.

So, as far as I’m concerned, there is no breakthrough moment when this process ceases to happen…not while we are in a human body. We do get quicker and somewhat more skillful at not allowing the unattended emotions to require deep storage in the first place, true (I like to imagine that I now have a temporary holding space for stuff requiring my attention rather than a heavy vault where I try to hide things)…but we can only process so much “as it happens” and we are always likely to store at least some of our stuff “for later” as long as we are in physicality. So it pays to get shipshape and organised about this by instigating the mechanisms that mean you regularly check out and work through what you are holding in those cellular storage zones  – whether that be meditation, some sort of talking process or physical/energetic therapy that gives you a regular springclean before anything has the time to become chronic. A rule of thumb for me (learned the hard way…) is that the better I feel, the more crucial it is to remember to book myself a regular appointment for the kind of treatment session that helps me to process emotions out of the body while they are still held subtle patterns and not yet the ingrained kind of distortions that lead to more lasting problems. It’s that old adage that prevention is better than cure!

For me, that audit is a trip to see my wonderful myofascial therapist, who offers so much more than just a mechanical approach to bringing about relief in my body. Whether I have a particular problem or not, I try to see her once every two to three months as I have (repeatedly) found that this pays dividends versus trying to leave this to an annual or six-monthly visit where it only becomes more messy to tackle all the things going on. This week, I scheduled a session for the day of the summer solstice which, as you will know if you have read that Love Letter post, presented a powerful conscious opportunity for me to release a great many emotional memories out of the cellular structures of my body once and for all and so I went in there charged up with the intention to play my part while she played hers (the most powerful scenario of all in any healing session). Without even needing to tell her what I was working on internally, we somehow met in the middle and this presented one of the most powerful healing opportunities I have every undergone. In fact, I scheduled that post to get published ten minutes into my session with her, by which time I knew I would be lying on her treatment table – now that is a powerfully conscious process of release!

True to form, her skillful manipulations of myofascia and energy releases being mirrored by all the inner work that I was already doing, the session turned out to be a particularly powerful yet incredibly serene one, from which I walked feeling so calm and brimful with wellbeing that I almost floated out of the door. It felt like a real milestone and a great deal was covered, functionally speaking, providing me with a startling amount of tangible relief in the physical body. In particular, a painful knee that I have been experiencing for quite some time felt markedly better and, that evening, I was to be found striding out with my husband and dog to watch the solstice sunset feeling more lithe and lissom that I had for quite some time.

That left knee, I feel I want to point out, had all the traits of a functional issue and yet (when I first presented with it some months ago) she strongly suspected it related to an emotional issue about my daughter. I immediately felt the affirmative of that and knew it had taken form many years ago when I was consumed with so many fears, doubts and, yes, guilt, about how well I was parenting during the years of marriage breakdown and single-parenthood (“could I support her” = knee; you get the picture).  The problem I have with my knee has been emerging for a couple of years and, every time I had an emotion release around issues of self-doubt, the knee itself felt spongy and over-extended…which has felt like a functional “problem” though, really, it was signifying a release of defunct old emotions, making the knee feel lighter, less rigid. That is because, for literally years, I had been creating all the cells around the knee bone and ligaments to a pattern of self-doubt and a need to try harder at being rigid, supportive…so, take that away and, suddenly the knee felt like it was a knee no longer (literally, it didn’t know how to exist anymore without those old-defunct structures that it had been modelling itself to, making it feel artificially strong). In other words, what was a very necessary emotional release, as I learned to accept that I had not let anyone down, presented as a further “problem” that felt like the strength had suddenly gone out of it (though it had actually relaxed). Then, as the knee panicked at the void of all the familiar emotions it had been using to structure itself and grasped for any kind of  replacement it could from the kind of emotional debris that it was most familiar with, it had managed to rebuild itself upon some of the somewhat different yet equally potent ideas around parenthood and self-doubt from my current circumstances (as my daughter becomes an adult and flies the nest)…which had led to the knee feeling less spongy lately yet, suddenly, being in all-out pain which now affected my leg all the way to the hip (in other words, “the problem” now seemed bigger than ever, came back “stronger” or “escalated”). All of this understanding came to me because I was able to relate the therapist’s intuition to what I had been experiencing at the subtlest levels of my awareness and thus let go of the idea that the softening knee was a problem (so, I now know to allow it as a necessary passing phase) as well as shining a light on all the self-doubts I have been putting myself through and working on them, rather than storing them in the body.

By the next day, after my myofascial session (in which the knee issue was only one of many that she worked upon), I was sore yet was still able to manage some gentle yoga. By the afternoon, I was tearing-up at almost anything that rocked my emotions for so-much of a nano second and began to feel a little unhinged, not to mention restricted to the sofa. By this morning, I felt like I had been in some sort of road traffic accident (more accurately, like I had gone through one of those car crushers at the landfill) as every inch of me was in pain and restriction; which is where I am now…except…I’m not.

Now to the most important bit I want to share with you, which is how I have already turned around how I felt on waking this morning. When this happens (whatever the release modality is that brought you some respite but may then have made you feel worse straight afterwards), the body’s dominant impulse is to take you back into more pain or restriction and this is so important to know. And it’s not because your body hates you or is working against you; it is really out of learned behaviour patterns and fear and the sooner we understand this and work with it, the sooner recovery comes; in fact, we can look at this kind of “low point” as the most powerful kind of opportunity, a darkest before the dawn moment.

This is because the cellular structure of the body is a “yang” impulse and is all about creating and maintaining structures and routine, predictability, order, staying well within the boundaries of “what it knows” from prior experience and repetition and making sure that form is maintained on the basis that form is equated with life. “Void” is a state that it fears like death itself….it must have substance to feel like it is thriving and so it races to fill up the space…any space that it detects…with more of what it knows. Even if all it knows (from prior experience) is pain and restriction, those are regarded as preferable to emptiness, a void; and so it races to fill that space with more more more, which is the yang impulse to a tee. To this aspect, void is nothingness and this triggers all its fears; it would rather have distortion than nothing at all. If you’ve ever created for yourself a day when you have absolutely nothing to do and thought you would really enjoy that and yet, when it arrives, you find you can’t sit still, you get horrendously fidgety as though some part of you feels it must fill the space with something, anything, even if that “thing” is to worry or create artificial problems to solve…that is what goes on when we first introduce the idea of spaciousness to some part of the body that has been constricted for a very long time. It is not a destructive impulse but, rather, a creative impulse…one that allowed us to become form in the first place; yet it can run amok when not in balance with an opposite impulse to allow spaciousness to coexist with it. You could say, one keeps the other in check and, together, they form the ideal state.

Fortunately, this is only one side of the story as there is a yin aspect to the cellular structure of the body too; an aspect that is more about space than structure. If this sounds like the yin doesn’t play a very significant part in the body, being all about an absence of structure, think again. More of our physical body consists of space than it does of matter…the 7,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 (7 octillion) atoms that make up our body consist mostly of space (the nucleus part comparable to “a fly in a cathedral”) and if all that space was to be compressed out of us, our body would fit into a cube less than 1/500th of a centimetre on each side (from one of many articles quoting these details). You could say, space its our defining feature (if we allow it to be…) so why are we so afraid of this? Rather, when we work with it, we get to have our say about the kind of patterns we store as the arrangement of cells in our body, which can only lead to feeling better than ever before; you could say, more aligned with our true self, our highest Self beyond the limitations of the physical body, and not all the distortions triggered by emotions we have found too challenging to deal with in the past along with all their incumbent belief systems relating to fear, lack and survival.

This space is where consciousness resides, flowing in like water through a newly cleared channel, levelling the many stories of the cellular body by finding things in common and bringing them into alignment with your highest aspect. There are no distortions here; this is so important to know and we have access to this levelling aspect any time we invite it in consciously; this is also big news when we are healing our body.

When we allow ourselves to notice how we are already conscious in all of our cells, we tap into this aspect. This is what gives us the sensation of having a physical bdy in the first place. Just lie there and allow yourself to notice two different parts of your physical body simultaneously and you will realise how this aspect can be in more than one place at a time; how awareness of relativity between those different parts and how differently they feel offers the sense of “body” that we take largely for granted. That aspect, you could say the third point in the triangle, is your awareness. Try doing this with multiple parts of your body, holding awarenss in all of them at once. Now expand this outwards to acknowledge how this awareness is who you are…and that it is not contained by the physical body but that the body resides within it. In other words, you are really a vast sea of awareness and the body is but an aspect of that…the slowest moving, lower vibrational aspect of it (which is why we are able to exist as form, to touch and to see ourselves) but, by no means, the whole picture of what is going on.

Our body arises out of that sea of awareness; just more of the same fabric, only slowed down to where it manifests into the physical dimension. I like to think of my physical self as a patch of sparkling ripples or intersecting currents on the surface of an otherwise glass-like expanse of water; mere undulations in an otherwise seamless energy field. Regarding myself like this for the last few years has enabled me to drop the “hard outer shell” perspective that tends to keep our human experience feeling so non-negotiable. Holding the perspective that my body has a far stronger relationship with that broader field of energy than it does with the learned patterns of behaviour perpetuated by my cells has been one of my most powerful healing modalities.

That vast sea of awareness is available to us in every moment, for creating and repairing our bodies (in fact, we owe our existence to it), yet we modulate the access we give ourselves to it though the learned mechanisms, the repeat patterns, of the yang impulse that is our cellular body; like a tap that we seldom turn on more than just a fraction in case we get flooded. In other words, the one aspect has been rationing our access to the other thus far. We have been so guarded about it and allowed what we think we know about the body to direct our experiences much more so than taking that deep-dive or even a gentle swim into the considerably broader waters of all potential. So, what would happen if we started to trust that sea of awareness and allow it to come flooding in? Is this the largely unexplored territory of our next great leap in evolution?

When we allow that awareness into our cells, the physical body starts to register itself as an energetic field exactly like those other energy bodies some of us now talk about having, rather than as a solid mass of cells (if somewhat more slowly vibrating). As such, we start to allow that we can influence this field of experience in exactly the same ways; through intention, thought, belief and what we assume based on past experience. As such, we can start to choose our intentions, give them form through our thoughts and leave beliefs that no longer serve us plus assumptions based on the past by the wayside. After all, where we are headed, there can be no assumptions made since we are forging all-new territory. At the energetic level, our instructions are very quickly read and carried out, so understanding where those instructions derive from (are they arising out of the vast field of awareness, or some tight little nodule of emotional pain we are holding onto) makes such a lot of difference to our experiences. Emotions and thoughts are wonderful things; we’re not trying to turn them off here. But allowing them to be more flux, to be like passing colours that come in, morph into a kaleidoscope of experience that leaves an impression on our consciousness, then pass though to be replaced by something else, allows the energy body that we know as our physical state to remain what it is designed to be – an energetic and vibrant extension of the universe – not stagnant and anchored into a non-thriving state with no room to grow.

When we find the place where the energetic field of the body seamlessly meets the vaster field, we can notice the similarities and allow the boundary to soften significantly. This welcomes the vast sea of awareness that you truly are into the physical body and begins an uninterupted tidal flow of feedback and receiving that dissolves any further blockages, like unhindered breathing clears any blockage on the lungs. Indeed, it is like receiving the breath of life fully into yourself for the first time when you start to make this your normality; renewing and creating cells from this place of non-distortion and broadest perspective. Passing through the layers of energy bodies of which we are made in varying frequencies of vibration (all the unseen layers such as emotional, mental and so forth), this energy flow starts to, as it were, cleanse the processing of these aspects before they have a need to be stored as unresolved cellular debris in the body and we become, quite literally, lighter.

felix-russell-saw-102513.jpgThis marks another homecoming, a reunion of sorts, as we reclaim the lighter aspects we have been estranged from for quite some time. The body celebrates its new status as an energetic phenomenon rather than this idea of a fixed structure we have tended to hang around its neck for so very long; and you can feel that celebration in the way that you feel, which can register as such profound relief and a lifting of immense burden without having to leave the body behind. The body no-longer has to suffer the wound that it is, at some level, regarded as a hindrance to wellbeing or achieving a spiritual state; a label you can’t blame it for trying to live-up to sometimes, given how often it is unfairly bestowed. It can shed the injustice of that stigma once and for all and bask in all the gratitude we experience for the beautiful experience of physicality that it makes so abundantly possible (again, I explore this in Love Letter to Myself).

We realise also that the body is in perpetual flux, not this fixed state we tend to assume it has locked itself into. Every thought, every moment of attention, influences its energetic field. We can notice how the sensations we are having very subtly change even as we watch them with our consciousness; try applying this to some area you would really notice, say a migraine you are having, and prepare to be in awe. Notice how the energy in that area of your body seems to expand, become more spacious, releases pressure and relaxes the very hard boundaries that were creating resistance and pain just moments before. The energetic component of our physical experience becomes more acknowledged and integrated and this utterly transforms the experience we are having of the body. Fear seems to dissipate, relaxation can be summoned at a moment’s notice, learned postures soften all the way down to the least seen aspects of our organs and all the intricate processes they carry out day by day. It’s as though your body is under new management and everyone is happier, more relaxed and diligent, laughing a little as they get their tasks done. I remember the part in the book “Eat, Pray, Love” where Elizabeth Gilbert is told by the Balinese healer to smile with her face, with her mind, even with her liver and I know now what that means. This is not some trite one-liner straight from a bumper sticker; it is how we tune our cells to the frequency of the universe (all the better to receive what it never ceases offering to us).

As these higher frequencies are allowed to flood into our body via the pathway we have just created through our conscious perception of them, and the physical body reintegrates with the vast sea of awareness that it is really “just” an expression of, absolute healing is allowed to happen, is made possible…no further hindrances. Just allow it time; no stop-watches, no marks out of ten, no impatience, no expectations, no applying logic to how we assess its performance, no self-judgement…none of that since these will flip you back over onto your back with your legs kicking in the air like an upturned beetle until you get back to that simple state of allowing without all that blasted mental interference!

Some of us are holding the patterns of multiple lifetimes, more experiences and stories and repeat traumas than we can even imagine, in our bodies this time around…for a very good reason since we are playing a key part in clearing these old patterns out of humanity at large. For those of us that this applies to, we may feel just so stuck to these old patterns at the cellular level, in spite of all our best efforts to let them go, that we feel somehow like failures or victims of circumstance, unsupported by the universe or just too weary to keep believing that a state of healing really awaits us up ahead. The degree to which we feel this is fair indication of the super-powerful healing potential that we are modelling for the world at large; the intensity of our pain serving like a run-up or a turbo-boost to what lies up ahead. We took this enormous task on so that, when we finally get out of our own way, on all the multi-layers of numerous held wounds and beliefs and traumas and learned behaviours and fears…etc, at just the right moment for them all to line up (similar to how a powerful planetary alignment might arrange itself in the skies), which could happen at any time, the release of this will reverberate across the sea of awareness and be made available to countless other beings all at once. In fact we may have experienced powerful releases like these many times and hardly known what to make of them, having tried to understand them by applying the logic of the mind; and we will have integrated those breakthrough moments yet, in some cases, flipped ourselves back to some of the learned behaviours that were ready to be released. All the more important for us to continue believing that what we seek lies in spaciousness, not in the hard definition of what we think might be going on with our bodies; and never underestimate the enormity of what we have taken on and are really doing so spectacularly here (however it might look at ground level; not loosing faith in spite of this, as it is all part of the challenge we have taken on so courageously). Doing this is the true essence of  what we mean when we say we are “holding space” for something to happen and we are becoming world experts at that.

To do this all the more effectively, I am dropping (but not disowning) the stories of how I got to here and this has been my big gear shift since the summer solstice. There is a subtle but important difference between these two approaches. I am not throwing away my story and nothing (no tired-old belief system!) could induce me to do so; it is far too valuable and to seek to erase it as though it never happened would be to dishonour and fragment from the aspect of self that has so bravely processed through that whole set of experiences (for very good reason; again, I refer you to my post Don’t Feel You Have To Ditch Your Story (Unless You Really Want To)). Rather, I will allow my story to come up of its own accord, carried on the flow, whenever it deems this to be useful as a point of reference; this is so important and is like leaving the door open with a welcome mat at the threshold. However, I choose to lay-off the habit of seeking it out or the frequent repetition of what I have been through in my own mind since it might not always be relevant and, when led by the mind, these habits can become hard structures that pin us down. Instead, I am allowing a sense of void to step in through the doorway of me in equal part with the “story” aspect; like yin and yang in equal partnership. Again, my task is simply to hold space. Having honoured my story so thoroughly in my Love Letter to Myself, I am better positioned to do this than ever and this “write it all down” method might be one that you could use to consciously clear your own way to allow more spaciousness to arise in your experience, going forwards. In essence, I have pumped every experience I have ever had full of love and then dropped it into the creative void  where I will leave it all to cook without my interference, neither disowned nor beaten onwards like a marching drumbeat. This approach is a yin-yang balancing act and can serve as the very vortex out of which you manifest your next great experience of being in a human body; which is, after all, what healing is all about.

Back to my day; recognizing the patterns reinstating in my body, I took myself into meditation and I focussed on the profound and seamless relationship between my body and the sea of awareness, as above, whist holding feelings of love (light), kindness (expansion) and compassion (harmony) towards my body. Just noticing how these particulars that we know so well from our human experience match up with the energetic expressions that relate to the out-of-body experience helps ease the seamless flow between the physical and non-physical aspects of awareness, bridging the seeming gap, and I felt at once how the edges of physicality softened and my pain levels dropped down to the bare minimum. The cells readily take on the energetic interpretation of these experiences once a match is made…and, literally, I felt more expansion where, before, there had been constriction whilst light and harmonious experience seemed to flood me where, before, there had been discord and lack of flow. I have remained in that state all morning and what felt like extreme pain is like a subtle sub-plot that I can leave to its own devices whilst I have concentrated on other, more uplifting, things. All we need do is turn that flow on; our bodies will always default to the higher state, as do all things given the choice and, once those barriers to experiencing them dissolve away, we are allowed to float out into the calm waters of an experience that, at once, supports us without defining us in any way. Defunct patterns have no place here; they do not gain the repetition or the physical traction to make themselves solid enough to be sustained. The longer I remain here, in this void of conscious creation (directed by intention and thought), the more supported my new patterns – my chosen patterns – become and it only gets easier from here…

I see my cells flooded with love, kindness and compassion…and this is my only task. Not such a bad one to place my focus on, really; knowing that all the most joyful pursuits I allow myself further support this, along with all the kindnesses, the slowing down, the relaxing, the letting go, the careful focus upon what is most uplifting, the positive thoughts. Listening to my body’s signaled responses to whatever I choose and responding in that moment, without added drama. Meeting the body in its relative slowness whilst allowing it to taste the higher frequencies passing through without alarm. Why should it be alarmed to welcome in what is here to support it? Both physical and non-physical have their place in our humanness; its time to allow this and we get to experience so much, across such a broad spectrum, when we do. Fast and slow moving streams of energy, met as form; it is all…just…so…beautiful so why not make it our default. I suspect this is the opportunity we have always been waiting for.

 


The term “sea of awareness” that I use here was coined by Jeddah Mali, whose wonderful three-part series of meditations Seeds of Enlightenment, Embracing Freedom and Infinite Grace I completed about six years ago and served as one of the foundation stones of my conscious expansion. I’ve lost count of how many times I have now listened to these invaluable audios, so much so that their vernacular is inseparable from my own. They are still my go-to when I want to be led through a guided meditation and I have never found a term more fitting to describe that which lies beyond the physical experience than “sea of awareness”. I very highly recommend her work as a way of encouraging the process of integrating the higher aspects of experience with those associated with living in a human body.

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Love letter to myself

Summer Solstice, 2017

My body, my physical expression, all that I am as a complex, emotional, thinking and feeling human being, I love you so much. I know I haven’t said it nearly enough. I relied on it being “obvious”, as we tend to do; did I really have to spell it out? All those little gestures when I directed you at the cross-roads, helped you to intuit what  best served you, dropped clues of synchronicity, showed you all those sunsets, flooded your heart with inexplicable joy, inspired you over and over and over again; these all spoke of love without the need for words. But if you still need me to say it, to point out all the ways that I love you, then I’m saying it now.

When did we drift apart; why was it that you stopped listening? Or, more like, became suspicious of me like we had different agendas. We used to sing to the same tune and then you started to believe all those ideas being flung at you; thought that you hated the shape you are, the way you looked, that you were odd and didn’t fit in. Oh my body, those were just a reflection of how you were being taught to think about yourself; none of it was real except that you made it so by believing in it. If you’d only listened to me…but, that wasn’t what we had planned was it? You needed to learn these things all for yourself. And so you turned to your intellect, you put so much effort into that; you could say, you made your mind up, you were always so determined, stubborn even. But how exhausting, to have to feel you were the one driving everything with your decisions. Life became so complicated when it could have been far easier with me by your side in equal partnership; you became a control freak, you felt responsible for absolutely everything and with responsibility came blame, so much blame if things didn’t go your way. It drove you nearly mad with over-thinking and you weren’t even an adult yet; so you loaded your plate so high with those rocks you insisted on carrying. I watched you do it and I tried to drop you clues (sometimes, if you thought they were your own idea, you would cautiously pick them up…) but I had to allow you your freedom and, after all, it was all still an experience for me, either way. But it could have been so much easier for you. I had to admire you for the challenge you took on, to grow yourself and others by taking the harder route, the long winding road. That took such courage; do you know how courageous you are?

Really, you always knew I was there; but you didn’t always want to know about it. There are times when I vibe so high it frightens you, even now. It used to excite you, when you were little; it would make you pirouette around and be into everything, to touch things in nature and feel so much joy from everything life had to offer; simple things without strings. But then it alarmed you because it made you feel different to be like this, so exuberant and uncool, so you hid me away deep inside. Once you learned about the world, some of its scary stuff, the excitement of feeling me switched-on in you sometimes felt too much like fear…all that energy, pouring through you; like it would burn you, destroy you, take you closer to the edge than you wanted. Or you felt like the calm I gave you made you into a horrible person, in denial about all the fear people kept telling you that you should be feeling; like you were cold and lacked feeling. So you tried to suppress me away with alcohol, all that rubbish that you ate, those people you used to hang out with who told you were nothing because that was what they believed about themselves. You tried to bring the feelings I gave you crashing back down to earth with all those layers of toxic experience but I wouldn’t let you. So we played tug of war for a very long time but I kept coming back. In your darkest moments, I would always do that and you would lean your head on me, knowing where you stood with me when all else failed. You would never have relinquished me back then, not really; I was your safeguard, your hidden truth.

We maintained such a bizarre partnership, like terribly different twins joined at the heart; the outgoing one and the one who was increasingly afraid of her own shadow. We cared so very deeply for each other and yet it was like we didn’t know how to talk to each other at all any more; we lost our easy parlance when you moved away from home, from the safety of the nest. You could say, we got out of touch like once close friends who had drifted…which was only possible because you made life feel conditional and I no longer fit with that. You made it all feel like that; life all one giant trade-off, tit for tat. You had to turn down all your own dials to believe in all that nonsense, to be like other people, which you thought you had to do to survive. When your father died on the Summer Solstice, just as you turned twenty (still a child pretending to be adult), half way through studying for the degree that he had thought was too much for you…being a girl, you didn’t know how to react to your first close brush with death so you pushed it inside, denying so many uncomfortable feelings. You really thought at some level that it was your fault somehow; another trade off you had accidentally set in motion because of all the hurt thoughts you harboured about him and your guilt that you and he had drifted apart. It was like you still understood your immense power but you had forgotten about love and that you can do no harm to anyone from this place. It unnerved you about the nature of misplaced thoughts and intentions, about unruly sadness turned to venom, and it made you pull inside even more as though you were too dangerous to let out. You felt horribly unsure of yourself and you looked for your father in unlikely people, seeking answers from “men”; ones who only let you down.

Then four years later, along came that time when you almost let me in again; this time you were flying so high on the midsummer vibe, feeling me switched on and remembering how good it felt when we are partners. You became so excited to feel me lifting you from beneath your wings that you just wanted to come with me again, to forget about everything else and we spiralled higher and higher that night…but then you had come to equate that feeling with alcohol and you also drank too much, thinking it was all the same feeling of exuberance but it wasn’t and you fell crashing back down to earth, into a deep sleep. When you woke up, everything had changed because something had happened, a liberty had been taken when you were off-guard and it was something you wouldn’t forgive yourself for; though really you wouldn’t forgive me. You felt that you had trusted me and that I was the one who had led you out of your body on a spiral of joy and left it lying there, vulnerable and exposed so you pummelled your fists on me though really you blamed yourself. Really, you didn’t know who to blame (perhaps both of us), though I didn’t think blame came into it. This was what made things worse in your mind; you knew that, at some level, I didn’t really care what had happened, I knew it was unimportant since nothing could sully what you are, not really (I tried to show you that but you weren’t ready to hear it). I already saw the much bigger picture, where this was a wake-up call of sorts, and I just wanted you to know it was out there (this other way of looking at things) but you slammed it in my face, felt such guilt for even acknowledging for a brief second that you were not damaged by what had happened. So you play-acted the deep deep crashing hurt to perfection, strapping the rock of it to your back since it was what was expected in such circumstances.

Then I provoked the same conflict of perspective when your mother died almost exactly four years later (how the summer solstice took such a beating). You didn’t know how to handle the grief of another lost parent, on the back of all this, yet when you came to me, I didn’t take you into the abject fear or deep mourning that you thought was appropriate. I showed you, didn’t I, that it was all perfect at some level; that it was by design and that you would survive, stronger and wiser for it and that your mother had even agreed to this but you weren’t ready for that; to hear and feel that death could be strangely unemotive, exciting even, for all parties seen from this higher perspective. You hated yourself for feeling these higher vibes even fleetingly, as you could for a mother with whom you had such a profound connection that you were able to sense that, where she was, she was more than alright, was already in a state of profound bliss and that she only wanted the same feeling for you too. She even came to you to tell you that; you felt her there in the unfamiliar dark room where you lay the night she died and you heard it straight from her but you didn’t want to know it yet; it made you feel too weird. So you kicked and pounded against this thrilling secret, you picked up your heavy rock of mourning and placed it deep in your heart and you slammed the door in my face, even more firmly than before, for even briefly allowing you to see this alternate perspective…so I gracefully withdrew. Your flame, that inner torch, really flickered around then….it felt like such a dark time for you but I could only come to you if I was welcome.

So you began to distrust heightened feelings more than ever before; they felt like the gateway to all your problems, your deepest guilt and self-abhorence, instead of the gateway to greater understanding and bliss. And, of course, you began to think I was cold-hearted, aloof and superior, a heartless know-it-all but, don’t you see, that’s what everything looks like where I reside. I don’t get drawn into all the emotions and learned behaviours, that’s the point – you do that for me, which is fascinating to watch, but I don’t have to. I have already reached my nirvana where there is no good or bad, no cycle of loss; in fact, I never left and I have brought you here with me, so many times but you began to pretend you had never seen it, this place where it is all perfectly fine and nothing is out-of-joint or a “mistake”. You’ve had access to this place all your life because I’ve always wanted you to know that, to cut to the chase, to ride high on its wave and feel its relief and its solace; it got you through so many experiences when you were bullied so relentlessly at school (when you were small and still prepared to listen to alternate realities without picking things apart) and, ever since, I’ve dropped you so many clues to get you back here…But then I see how it was in conflict with what you saw down there on the ground. It simply didn’t fit with how fear, possession, conflict and loss count for so much that is considered relatable in your world so you suppressed what you knew and hid it away like a guilty secret that you denied with all of your human effort.

On the back of all those big hurts, one after another (and there were more around relationships that you formed believing you were so worthless), we stopped talking to each other around then, which is when you were nearly 30 and life seemed so stuck in this groove. You were so despairing and lost and, even if you remembered anything I had shown you, you didn’t know how to integrate this with what the world seemed to count as important for survival (and you were all about that in those years). It was a parting of the ways, of sorts…for a time. Until you got my attention back again with all those health problems cascading around your ears (it was a summons of sorts); since, without me, you really didn’t thrive, as though your inner light had almost gone out. Perhaps you were testing me…or did you think you were giving me what I really wanted; an opportunity to leave you behind, to drop the millstone of a human body and go back to where things are always lighter, less complicated than you seemed to make them. Well, I didn’t leave you, did I? I was straight by your side, tentatively at first (then one day, six years ago, I dared to stop tip-toeing and came back to take residence, like a golden ball of love light beneath your heart space) and we stuck it out together. Already (and you acknowledged it at last), I had stood by you through thick and thin, through the birth of a daughter, through the loss of almost everything material that you had amassed, through the loss of your health. Don’t you see yet, my love was always unconditional; not about how “good” an experience you were giving me but about having any experience at all. Perhaps its time to talk about all the things you have given me; to redress this one-sidedness you have always kidded yourself exists here. This has not all been all about me trying to give something to you (and you, out of stubbornness and hurt, refusing to accept it)…You have always given me so much in return, never stopping for a moment.

You see, without you, I wouldn’t get to feel a thing….not one thing. You allow me to feel the breeze on my skin, to hear bird song as more than what I register it as (a frequency but not a beautiful sound through the ears). To feel warmth and cold, laughter and longing. To hold a paintbrush, to create with my hands, to touch someone’s skin. To know food fresh from the plant, sand in toes, exhilaration and, yes, great stirrings of emotion, embraces, tears, deep sorrow. I wanted all of this and more; and there was no other way than through you. I chose you because you feel all the minutiae, you colour every feeling, you seem to know how to express all the nuances and make even more of them than they were before through the medium of yourself. All your senses cross over in great fluid waves creating a rich tapestry of almost indescribable experience and I get to ride that magic carpet with you, every single day. The super-sensitive that you are, that you think is all about pain, gives me the ride of many lifetimes; so I wouldn’t want to do this with anybody else but you, my partner and my beloved. I long for you to keep going, to prolong this particular ride, to keep putting coins in the slot to keep it turning. I want to have it go on for many moments, years, decades. Everything in me is focussed upon you thriving to make that wish possible and all I ask if that you focus that intention upon every cell and then switch it on like the elixir of love that wants only for you to heal from anything that risks compromising the time we have left together. Don’t you feel that? Its true; and its all yours, anytime you want it.

It’s not so very hard for us to come together now; to get to know what it feels like to walk as one. You already know me as your inspiration; that is how I was allowed back in the door…and then I was there for you in all your quiet moments of profound healing. We began to meet up again in designated places; when painting, in meditation, on the yoga mat, walking in nature…but really, you began to see, I am everywhere and we have become fast friends again, you and I. Like in childhood, only better. Yet there is still some part of you that denies me from coming all the way in and its time to let go of any reasons why that hesitation is necessary. You have come such a long way; there is no more fear left around those things that seemed to take you down and then allowed you to come fountaining back up into a new way of experiencing life. You have forgiven and sent compassion to everyone, accepted everything as the gifts that they really were, including yourself. How do you think you were able to do this, to heal on such a profound scale, if I was so absent? See, I never abandoned you; we were always right on track, guided by the message of love that I never allowed you to forget the feeling of, calling you home like a warm embrace. This is what wholeness feels like; outstretched arms and your essence filling them – you hold me and I hold you.

I AM love and you have held me inside of you and in a high-vibrating field all around you for as long as you have walked this earth. If you are honest now, you already know that, don’t you? So, step into me, allow this union, drop this idea that we are out of sync or want different things and we can do this thing. You see now, don’t you, that I was always on your side; not for a single moment did I ever leave you or work against you. It could only feel “off” for us to come together if we were vibrating at completely different frequencies; speaking, as it were, a completely different language but we don’t…at all. You know as much about love as I do; you have learned unconditionality through the very experiences of your life, the hard way (and I bow to you, for you have added so much more to what I understand about this, realised – as you have – where it is so much harder to achieve, from within the human field). You have shown me unconditionality and awe and wonder and joy and immense love and so many other things from within that complicated and messy field of experience, which is where these things truly hold sway. You think you have reverence for me, as though I am some sort of perfect version of you, a so-called “Higher” self who never gets anything wrong. Well, let me tell you, I have such reverence for you!

You have anchored love to this planet and everything about you mirrors love to everyone you meet. And I want you to know and acknowledge something else about yourself, one thing you have always denied – you are kind! You are kindness personified and yet, for one reason or another, you have judged yourself as unkind, emotionless (no, that was just me showing you that all was always well…), even selfish when really you were focussing on the area of your expertise, your own recovery. You have modelled this for all those who seek permission to do this for themselves. I see kindness in everything you do, the way you selflessly share your experiences from the heart, give of your time, reach out to others, take such care with how they are doing though they may be virtual strangers you have never met. Nearer home, you think you have been a terrible mother; I see the very opposite (what you confuse for this is your uniqueness as you model alternate ways of being a parent, allowing the child to feel and explore their own sovereignty, just as you got to play with yours all those years ago; in the end, it served you well). All this time, you see yourself as broken, as a let down, as not doing so well, but really you are being love in every moment; like a child riding a bicycle all on their own thinking they are still being held on to but they’re really not. You are doing it all without my help; all it takes is owning it to let the flood gates down and allow the tide of sameness to come rushing in across the breach of this commonality we share, the place where we both match through speaking the language of love. It won’t burn or destroy you; we are not so out of sync that anything I am would harm you in any way and, in any case, love could never destroy you (don’t you know that yet). Who knows, as one we might get to experience something neither of us has ever got to experience before. It could mark the completion of us both…


 

suresh-kumar-155029.jpgTwenty-five years ago this solstice dawn, I woke up on my own floor to face a circumstance that had come about while I was asleep and which rocked my world. It was not the definitive event of anything that I ever lived through (externally, I picked up and carried on the same and, as mentioned, there were several other “key events” that played a part) but it was certainly the one that sent the camel’s back buckling and dropping all its cargo in the slow-motion emotional and physical collapse of the following decade. It marked a parting of the ways of sorts, an estrangement between two equally important aspects of self; so that I was forced to either come back together in a whole new way or not be here at all. Like watching a dummy lurch forwards against a windscreen in one of those car crash videos, the rest is, as they say, (my) story and I own that story, consciously, as the very making of myself. In effect, I get to wake up all over again…this time on my own terms.

The last decade has been a self-righting, a sort of rescue operation and a slow-steady reunion of two aspects of myself that had become exaggeratedly fragmented (I know now) expressly so I could learn how to put myself back together again!

This powerful time of planetary poise, summer solstice (a time that was such a favourite in my childhood, when more light meant even more playtime and joy) became attached, through association, with a hurt which, in turn, became the very pivot-point of all my efforts to “return home” to myself this last quarter century. Perhaps this period of maximum light has made it all the more painful for me to see more of myself yet not like what I saw across all these years of the wound that I was harbouring being, as it were, spotlit by this anniversary. A stark contrast was set up and the rub of it became my very growing point; a navigation aid as I brought myself into better alignment with what truly felt like me, year-on-year. At the higher level, its as though I have been working with the summer solstice…and my task, now, to work powerfully with it in my favour as such a life-affirming time of the year, unconditional upon any associations I have ever formed around it. I see now how I have been working to redress an alleged moment of self-abandonment (although I never really did fragment or separate…not for one moment, though it may have seemed to be so); to both offer and receive the love that was never, in the first place, either refused or denied.

Last year, I surrendered the story of it by writing what had remained so hidden and putting it “out there” in my other blog Spinning the Light; this year, I claim the pure white glistening pearl that it always was as I lay it all to rest as my own profoundest healing potential. The story of it is no longer required since it has served its highest purpose, along with all those other stories about myself to date; neither discarded nor crystallised through further repeating but, actually, left there tenderly, suspended in a whole new place between substance and nothingness. This is what the meeting place of self and Highest Self feels like to me; like a quantum void out of which all potential births…we get to choose. I never felt more unconditional love fountaining and overflowing from within every cell and with love comes wholeness. So much love…so many tears…so much love…a sea of pain washing out of me, almost overwhelming me like a surprise wave that almost knocks me over, but I am sturdier than that and I won’t need to engage with it again…so much love…so much release…I AM the wave. Such moments are how we heal ourselves to heal the world.

Writing this letter to myself has been such a powerful instrument of healing. I hope to inspire others to do likewise; to let such a letter pretty-much write itself and see what comes out for you. You may well get to hear the words that you always longed to hear…

 

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Enthusing about wellness

I’m changing trajectory with this blog…not sharply, since I realise I’ve been heading this way for some time now; but more concertedly than before and without compromise. I used to think I was writing about recovery, about “dealing with” health issues, about coping or making a bad situation better, seeking pinpricks of light in the dark. Well, my focus from this point onwards is to write about all the things that the body is doing right, to share the highlights of my journey towards increased wellness (not recovery); which is surely something that engages all of us, isn’t it? I intend to write from the heart about all the great adventures in learning to work with the body in more life-enhancing ways, something I have already gathered quite a wealth of understanding about.

Recovery suggests there is something to recover and it really hasn’t felt like that for a very long time now. I realise I am more than whole, more than perfect…and what is playing out here is really a long-running (lifetime’s) adventure in reading the physical messages, sent by my body, to encourage me the way I am going or tell me when I am out of alignment with that perfection. These “symptoms” have only ever been the clues leading me straight to myself; the gentle tugs on a kindly cord coercing me back onto the path that best serves me. Much more so than recovery, I find the experience I have been through has been mostly about shedding what doesn’t serve, what keeps me off track (and that includes the mindset that tells me I am “faulty” because I am different to some other people).  It’s a wonderful, powerful and transformative journey I have been on and it continues to be worthy of sharing as it really never ends while you are alive in a body. I would love for more people to open to this mindset of “nothing wrong” and to embrace the positive messages their bodies are sending them, not to mention all the things they are doing well.

Really, I am so done with our culture’s mindset that what I have going on is some sort of illness that I need to endlessly explain or apologise for; and I have noticed that even the language I was continuing to use here was bowing to that belief-system at some level. In order to make myself accessible, I was telling myself that I still had to apply so-called universal labels and use typical language around these topics so that other people could relate or even find me on the internet. In doing this I was, in a sense, blocking myself from the full recovery that is already mine. It was also keeping the perspective I have to offer small and limited since I was complicit in this continual mindset of boxing it up inside a cultural concept of “sickness”, which is no longer one that I share. And, really, who is sick here – those who have reinvented their lives with healthy lifestyles and refinements they would have missed had they not been taken on this journey of the body, or those still leading the most abysmally unhealthy lifestyles because (so far) their health hasn’t forced them to do otherwise.

Drawing a line and stepping into a reinvented landscape that is all about optimistically meeting your life exactly where it is whilst knowing it will only get better is what this long pursued thing called recovery really is to me and so I’m already there. This state relies on not having to face a setback of the mind every time I introduce myself to others, which comes down to how I choose to explain those things about me which are likely to be alien to their world and which they may not immediately understand. When I meet new people and their brows furrow at things I state I do differently to them, I want to be able to explain how I don’t do “x” or “y” because they interfere with my wellness, not that I am unwell to start with. That way, I am always starting from a point of wellness…and I now know what keeps me there (better than most); something I should be prepared to own and feel really good about. The difference is subtle but is oh-so important; and if you play with it for yourself you will find the extent to which this is true. Why should those of us who have become this in-tune with our own state of wellness be the ones deemed weird or faulty for noticing some of the detrimental circumstances that others continue to sleep-walk through though they threaten or actively undermine their wellness everyday? My health is not so vastly improved because I am reliant upon orchestrating a miserably complicated life of different-to-mainstream behaviours, denying myself what I wish I could have or take part in; it is so because I have consciously ditched those behaviours as non-conducive to the deep wellness that I now know for the deliciousness that it is and am not prepared to compromise, for anyone. And when I can’t avoid those behaviours completely (since, sometimes, they are all around me) I know many ways in which my well-balanced life will keep me afloat; which is only more reason to share what I have discovered in this blog.

jeremy-cai-66284Making peace with it all is the prerequisite of taking this next step and I have that peace in spadefuls. Clearly I wanted this so-called illness to happen since it has been the most direct route towards the kind of lifestyle that is a vast improvement upon what I had before. In that time before, what I called “health” was a make-do state of precarious vulnerability, one that was much more about being sufficiently unconscious of what was keeping my wellbeing compromised for me to ignore that mountain of things than about transparency, equilibrium or vitality. That transparency refers to the open relationship I now enjoy with my body; we have no secrets between us and can talk about literally anything. I am the convert to this way of life; the great enthusiast with even more to get excited about, every day, as life unfolds, which I intend to do here in this space. Here’s another of those big clues telling me my trajectory has altered; health is something I get excited about, these days; not something I keep pessimistically and rather fearfully under lock and key. This way of life is, for me, a lifestyle of choice; not an insurance policy, a chore or a ransom for my life. How do I know the lifestyle I have adopted has nothing to do with being a so-called recovery plan, this thing I make myself do out of hardship or fear? Because if I found myself without a single uncomfortable symptom in my body tomorrow, I honestly wouldn’t change a thing about the lifestyle I have adopted for myself this last decade. I wouldn’t shrug and say “to hell with all that healthy organic food” or “scrap the supplements”. There’s not one thing I would wind the clocks back about because I know my body has led me direct to my own best life; and there’s even more to come. I am a contagiously enthusiastic person and enthusing about wellness is what I want to do in this space. No more talking about illness or things going wrong; those words are just not my perspective anymore and its time to decommission them.

Quit the self-blame

I was so gutted by the sinking realisation that it came up in my dreams, gave me a disturbed night and had me waking with hot tears running down my face, sobbing outloud with a gulp as I surfaced. It was the middle of the week and was looking increasingly likely that I would have to drop out of something “important” that I had planned at the weekend; and it was just hanging there, like a lead weight over an already challenging week.

Quite a few weeks ago, we booked for us both (my husband and I) to go to a yin yoga workshop this weekend. This might not seem like such a big deal but to me it really is. To me, who does yoga nigh on every day from home…but at my own pace, able to stop and start when I want to…the thought of two hours shut into a room with other people who (in my mind’s eye) know what they are doing and can keep going without bizarre waves of chronic exhaustion or pain occurring, even at a gentle pace, is quite terrifying but I was up for it all the same. Having had such a good few months; having been able to increase my home practice and start weekly one-on-ones that added new movements into my routine, I had felt encouraged that I could really do this…even though my yoga is never longer than about 30 minutes on a good day; and part of me was just longing to get out and be amongst other people, also a good sign. My husband’s sheer enthusiasm for me to go with him to this monthly session was contagious and I was thrilled that he wanted me there on his turf; thrilled that I really thought I could do it. Based on how good I have been feeling lately, the worst thing that could happen was that I may have to take it slow or sit out a few minutes of poses during the two hours duration but I could cope with that, couldn’t I?

But now, in a week when I’ve felt utterly crashed-out exhausted and in a lot of pain for days (and have hardly managed to do my own yoga…which is rare) I was beginning to have my serious doubts. The emotional vulnerability that sweeps in when I’m like this; that makes me more introverted than ever and so much less hardy in the face of assumed criticism, makes me recoil more than ever at the thought of so publicly floundering if I have to just lie there on a mat until the session is over. When I’m like this, I withdraw even in the bosom of my own family; immersing myself in quiet pastimes until the wheel inevitably turns again…but not this time; I’m on a timetable and I have to be better by Saturday.

“Give it until Friday to decide” I told myself, or even “leave it until the very last minute and just be philosophical about the price of the ticket if you don’t manage to go…” But having just heard there’s now a waiting list for the session, the pressure is on and I no longer feel I should risk taking anybody’s place if there’s a chance I won’t go. If forced to decided now, based on how I feel today, the answer has to be “no, I can’t…” and that throws me into such a downward cascade of feelings. As anyone who knows what it is like to have to frequently give up plans because the body doesn’t play ball with them will be familair with…

The first, as I’ve said, is crashing disappointment…for myself, for my husband because of me. A longing “just to be normal”, to be spontaneous, to say “yes” to doing ordinary things is so overwhelming now and these setbacks in my body have never felt more abrasive, invasive, cruel. And yes there’s that niggling little voice that makes me imagine there is an impatience or frustration with me that my husband certainly doesn’t feel (he is more concerned that he pushed me too hard to do something I wasn’t ready for…) but my mind likes to make it up anyway. Surely (it tries to tell me) he must wish sometimes that I wasn’t so feeble, so unreliable when it comes to doing things. Its always so much harder to allow myself to believe he is really the stalwart supporter that I know, in my heart, that he is and that he has none of these thoughts; these are just me, digging.

Next on the block is a feeling of self-accusation that sounds like my mother’s voice when I was a pre-schooler: “Did you do this?” said with finger wagging. Had I, at some level, manufactured this to “get out of” a situation that pushed me out of my comfort zone; had I made it happen? Which then quickly joins forces with the chorus of voices I sometimes imagine being all around me, made up of all the go-getter people I know: “Well, if you are so good at manifesting, how come you manifested this? Why aren’t you better yet? All those so-called spiritual concepts, all that grand philosophising about life and yet you still have this going on. If you are still so unwell, you must be having “wrong” thoughts, must be courting this illness with negative thinking or focusing on material symptoms when you need to be more spiritual than you know how; don’t you know focusing on the body is so last year? Other people get over cancer and you have this pathetic mystery illness that doesn’t even have a diagnosis. Can’t even manage a yoga class…you’re such a failure!”

The next is a big one, the sinking admission (in the cold scrutiny of the moment) that this is the reason why I don’t book or plan many things, don’t make arrangements with friends, don’t even tend to have those kind of friends with whom I can “do” things. All because I have had to shrink my life down to a size of a pea, so I can’t disappoint or mess anyone else, or myself, around very much; for the very reasons so amply demonstrated by this situation. Which means I have a life in which I do very little except spend time on my own or with a close-knit family core, though they get to see other people in their daily lives and I don’t; because that is by far the “safest” option compared to setting up a constant stream of let-downs, explanations and physical benchmarks that I can’t always achieve. Which leads into my next downward spiral as I realise how sad and lonely I sometimes feel, how there’s occasionally a sense of missing out on life, of watching other people live theirs and me just a bystander; of having cryogenically preserved only the very tiniest, most predictable, frozen core of a life without any of the spontaneous fleshiness that makes it rich and colourful in an active way. Suddenly my rich-sensory inner-focused life of writing, thinking and art (which I normally love with a vengeance) feels compromised and small compared to what I could have if I was able to “do” more. That dissatisfaction, let out of its box, feels like it is suddenly come back to eat me and is another one of the reasons I avoid stepping over my own boundaries to where I’m suddenly dissatisfied by what I find I cannot do, predict or take for granted about my body like other people. When I keep my focus on my inner world, I keep those dissatisfactions at bay; but when I open that box…

And if I don’t set myself goals I don’t set myself up for a crash…like this one, where not only my hopes are dashed but my awful-feeling week is suddenly noticeable whereas, normally, I’m pretty circumspect about these flare-ups, letting them pass without resistance as “just one of those weeks” where I have to take things gently until they pass. As I’ve learned, what you resist persists and when you want something to be gone with every ounce of your being, to a particular schedule, they only come back even stronger…as I’m rediscovering. Now, with a deadline to feel better by, the malignant feeling at its core (one I have otherwise learned to avoiding adding fuel to but, this week, it is particularly hungry) is that I have “failed” in some way…I am “sick”…and there are now excuses and apologies to be made, which take the kind of words that I normally avoid using in my vocabulary, all of which have their focus on “wrongness” and “malfunction” (“I’m sorry, I have to cancel my booking at short notice because…”), which makes me feel a whole lot worse. Because, as I learned a long time ago, those words give solid form to what can otherwise be allowed to remain much more fleeting and transient, especially when you have carefully orchestrated your life to spend time with those who require no explanations…

Down and down it goes, reinforcing why I don’t try to do things like this very often, why I settle for my own small, non-communal activities behind closed doors on my own adaptable terms where there are no expectations or benchmarks to achieve. The irony is (as I already know deep down), if I wasn’t feeling so lousy in my body, I wouldn’t be feeling so darned tragic about not being able to do this one simple thing; I could probably even laugh about it, just a little…………….

_______

It was then that I realised that this thing I thought I had, long-ago, achieved like I was the grand master of this very thing – a state of total SELF-LOVE and ACCEPTANCE – was a smokescreen for a more pervasive layer of self-judgement that was still lurking in there. I thought I had this thing off to a fine art yet I could now see how I was still holding it in; within the very depths of my being like the Loch Ness Monster beneath the pristine waterline. One rocky day in my “boat” and it was still waiting there to gobble me up.

catherine-mcmahon-10118.jpgThe reason it remained so hidden was that I wasn’t testing myself enough, in my well-balanced life, for it to surface from the depths. Here, at last, was a wobble in my track record for it was now (just when I most needed it) that the pure unconditional self-love and acceptance was so apparently absent. Where was its tender embrace, its pearl-wisdom that told me none of this mattered nor would anyone who mattered mind any of this; that there would be other yoga, other times for doing things; that what really mattered now was that I didn’t make myself all brittle with self-condemnation so that I could get back on my feet…? But then just when I thought it wasn’t there, it actually was. It told me how important it was that I remained soft and outwardly folding like a flowering bloom, not an early opening bud bitten by frost, so that my body could trust that it had my absolute support in its recovery. It brought the wisdom that knew that I should banish any tones that sounded remotely like that of a disappointed parent and hear only the one that said “well done for everything you are managing to do in each moment”, regardless.

The lesson was timely. It was important. It was, perhaps, what this whole thing was about in the baby steps journey of recovery. Perhaps next time I will get to that yoga without hitch but, before I could do that, I needed this preamble to soften my responses ready for the outside world into which I am venturing, one toe at a time. It’s a world where not everyone will always understand the excuses I give; so, perhaps I learn first how to excuse myself without apology and with the unwavering knowledge in my heart that I had the best of intentions and their response (if they even have one) is their response, nothing to do with me. Once the body knows I won’t bail on it; won’t put myself down or feel small, pathetic or ashamed and – just as importantly – won’t force it to do anything that doesn’t feel right if it comes to that, then perhaps it will relax more when these opportunities come along. When shame and self-judgement stop being the default response in any circumstance (not just the easy ones) I will be ready to put myself up for more, to take risks and (to the best of my ability) make more commitments.

The feeling of it is like an embrace…of everything you have going on; like a pair of arms making a complete circle around the Self making you complete at a whole other level. Once mastered, this is the kind of wholeness that preempts the kind of total recovery I always imagine achieving; one that is not about a complete absence of symptoms but which is all about a holistic response to the inevitable vagarities of life. Just getting here feels like a graduation of sorts; a small triumph that is invisible as measured by the physical “reality” that tells me there are still many things that I am not able to do and days when I feel just awful; but which is made tangible by the measure of how I unconditionally feel about myself, and the surprise gifts I am prepared to extract from those circumstances, regardless.

Reclaiming our spirit – some thoughts on alcohol and self-love

I’ve been pondering humanity’s troubled relationship with alcohol more deeply than ever, this last 18 months, since I stopped consuming it myself. Partly because the clarity of hindsight has allowed me to newly appreciate, and own, how alcohol was the bane of my life for just so many years; really, its consumption underlay some of the very worst experiences (and behaviours) of my life. In fact all of my biggest traumas except those relating to loss of a loved one had their foundations on a rock bed of alcohol-induced behaviours including some monumentally poor decisions and mindsets that had very far-reaching effects. The most pervasive of these was as a result of how alcohol imparted a subtle yet deadly sense of self-loathing that became deeper, more innocuous, year-on-year; only to be remembered like a faintly ringing Pavlov’s bell each time I took another drink and thus snowballed into even more self-denigration with each occasion.

In amongst the many causes of such self-directed bitterness was the fact I knew, not so very deep down, that the drink I consumed (yes, even if it was now only a couple of glasses a week..) set my longed-for recovery back in yards and sometimes miles…Yet I still did this thing as though I couldn’t stop myself, as though it was beyond the reach of such logic or rules, stood on its own little platform of most guarded behaviour, the untouchable of all bad habits. I would give up almost anything but, no, not this. I made Screen Shot 2017-05-22 at 10.54.46excuses for it, made it sound gentile and sociable, like a connoisseur ingredient or the great leveler of people. The havoc it wreaked on my otherwise patient and persistent attempts to achieve health equilibrium were not so gentile; I was chemically sensitive, intolerant to sugar and wheat yet prepared to imbibe this stuff packed full of sulphites and worse. Meanwhile, the more I felt somehow sullied by the habit, the more I felt compelled to pursue it…until the wake up of my consciousness allowed me to see some truths around this thing. It started to show me how drinking consistently marked the end of celebration, the down-turn in my evenings, the point where my tongue spoke free-wheeling gibberish instead of flowing inspiration, where my natural exuberance became conditional, weary or jaded and (not so ironically) my overflowing glass of life distorted to appear somewhat on the empty side until my head was allowed to clear once again.

It came as such a relief, one day, to quietly and without fanfare decide that I had had enough, that the effects simply weren’t worth it, that the show – for me – was over. Joined by my husband, we just as quietly ceased our subscription to a wine club, gave away all our glassware and offered our stash to our friends. There was that sense of relief you get when you send a bad boyfriend packing; long overdue and such a feeling of quiet empowerment washing in to fill that void. With a sigh, I am at last at liberty to speak out about just how unhealthy that relationship really was!

In fact, this many months along the line, quite aside from the fact my health feels so (so so so)  much better, more stable, without the weekly yo-yo in return for that large glass of red, I have never felt more resolved that this is a life-choice, not a passing whim. A sense of “missing out” when on holiday or in a restaurant has long since passed me by along with any sense that having a good time is not possible without it; in fact the opposite is true, I have never felt more relaxed in social settings.

It’s also a topic on my mind as my daughter (so far not a drinker) comes of age and starts to feel that societal push to do what everyone else does and join in the party. Thus far, and in fact in her own mind, she has no desire whatsoever to drink (a choice that long-predates my own decision to give up the bottle). Yet now that she approaches university age, she feels the tug to succumb to “the norm” as some sort of inevitability on the horizon like getting a job or learning to drive; almost like it is a necessity for social survival…and I hate that, loathe the cultural thumb screws that make any young person feel they must do as the herd do or be extricated. How has such behaviour got anything to do with pleasure and relaxation and why has a willingness to get inebriated got anything to do with acceptability or social prowess (or is it just that those who do can’t stand anyone else soberly watching as they make fools of themselves); yet our youngsters have never been under more pressure to conform to these social expectations if they want to avoid marginalisation and being deemed too uncool to have friends.

I have also been more interested than ever in the great mystery of “why” we drink alcohol  because it, to me, so clearly represents the Sixth Wave of our evolution, of which it is a master tool. If you are not familiar with what the Sixth Wave is (I refer you to the first of my various posts on the topic), in summary, it is the era that saw the left hemispheral viewpoint “take over” our world, distracting us from being spiritual beings aware that we are in direct communiqué with the divine towards the perspective of a world obsessed with logic, materialism and control. Early last year (shortly after giving up on drink myself), when I was deep-diving into our Fifth Wave ancestors by reading a series of essays about the nomadic tribes that followed the reindeer, I sat up and took note when I read one article describe just how deliberate that introduction of “drinks that inebriate” was as a means of disconnecting us from ourselves, causing us to forget who we truly were and making us so much more malleable at the hands of those who had designs on controlling that new invention set to take over our world – monetary wealth. Sure enough, as an instrument of controlling the masses whilst disengaging us from our most spiritual selves (and bringing out our worst side), alcohol has been second to none. Under its influence, we have been dumbed down and herded like cattle for six thousand years…so, now we are into a new age on the brink of an evolutionary leap, perhaps it is well overdue for a timely decline (though I’m sure its advertisers, and those behind its vast industry, will kick back with all they have). I know these things for sure – the path to recovery requires that you take back your personal power, your responsiblity for your own health and that you unconditionally love (and respect) yourself; none of which are consistent with what alcohol, voluntarily, does to the body each time we consume it.

In light of such ponderings, the article that I tripped upon today, which covers in much more detail many of the themes I refer to here, including the dubious beginnings of our relationship with alcohol, is an interesting read. With this quote to entice you to read on and, perhaps, shed a little circumspection on this very bizarre topic (why oh why do we give ourselves over to this stuff?), I will pass you on to the article by Zahra Sitta with the encouragement that it is well worth the read.

It is a known by many that ingesting alcohol depresses the nervous system, kills brain cells, is toxic to the liver, weakens the immune system, and has many other harmful effects. We are taught that long-term alcohol use can lead to unwanted weight gain, diseases of the liver, lowering of intelligence, and negative effects on hormones. Drinking alcohol while pregnant can lead to birth defects, mental retardation, and deformities in the developing fetus. Yet still, it is mass promoted and supported by our mainstream culture. Have you ever considered that alcohol is a slick tool of the supporters of the Matrix (global mind control and oppression program) to keep people on a path of disempowerment and sickness?

The word origin speaks volumes:

The word “Alcohol” comes from the Arabic “al-kuhl” which means “BODY EATING SPIRIT”, and gives root origins to the English term for “ghoul”. In Middle Eastern folklore, a “ghoul” is an evil demon thought to eat human bodies, either as stolen corpses or as children.

Al kol: Genie or spirit that takes on varied shapes or a supernatural creature in Arabic mythology.
Al kol: Any drug or substance that takes away the mind or covers it.”
The word alcohol is also linked to the fixed star in astronomy known as Algol- also known as “the Demon’s head.”
The current Arabic name for alcohol (ethanol) is الغول al-ġawl – properly meaning “spirit” or “demon”.

Extracts from Alcohol Consumption and Spirit Possession

Banner image created by Mrsiraphol – Freepik.com

The electrolyte connection

To anyone who has been brain-storming fibromylagia or chronic fatigue for some time, this feels important. Assuming you have already got to where you are no longer looking at this as a strictly mechanical or emotional thing (these play their part but they’re seldom ‘it’) then, if you haven’t already, try on for size – as I have been for the last couple of years – that this is a response to your electro-magnetic environment. And then take it further to look at how this isn’t, as such, a “faulty” response that your body is having but a sign that its ambitions aren’t being met by current circumstance; it is striving to respond, in a highly evolved way, to its broadest environment in a way that isn’t…yet…being supported by the organic reality made available to it. Perhaps something it needs in order to communicate with the energetic field (with which we are all inherently connected) is in short supply, but what?

That electro-magnetic environment – no getting around it – consists of at least two levels of activity; the man-made and the “cosmic” so, if you haven’t already, perhaps its time to start keeping an eye on the space weather and other EMF variables that your body is, likely, responding to in order to notice any patterns of behaviour that your body displays in relationship to them. Perhaps that learning curve is what your so-called illness is all about.

As (anyone reading my blog knows already) I have been doing for some time! Which is why I’ve been aware all week that both an incoming CME and a significant geomagnetic storm are expected at any time, with geomagnetic charts shown going high into the oranges and reds on the forecast. My familiarity with how these events affect my body is why I knew, after a week of forecasting this, that the predicted GM event had finally arrived in the middle of last night; and I don’t need to check the websites to confirm that or how behind the news they sometimes are with announcing what I feel.

I knew because, in the night, without even waking up properly, I was forced to trot off to the bathroom multiple times to go for a “wee”; not just any old wee but what felt like pints and pints of it –  where did all this liquid come from? And because, when I woke this morning I knew that I was having a physical response the likes of which I hadn’t had since last time we had such an event. One that, for me, consists of an all-consuming pain like I hurt deeply, in micro-layers right down to the very nucleus of every cell and am suddenly capable of feeling everything that the brain normally considers unimportant about that substrata of my body. I felt chronically “dry”, I felt bruised and muscle sore and I felt profoundly stomach-sensitive, light-sensitive, blur-visioned. It felt like the hang-over of all hang-overs and the day after a major diarrhea episode all rolled into one and I was in too much pain and bewilderment to fathom how to get out of it, which is the sudden abandonment of common-sense or solution that always serves as the final nail in the coffin of such an experience. At that point, there is usually such an overwhelming  sense of “nothing can be done” that all I want to do is curl up and pull the duvet over my head until the feeling has passed; such weakness, such lethargy – this is fibromyalgia to a tee.

r1365278_19218901But then the fact I have become the world’s biggest fan of coconut water lately, as the latest-best version of a rehydrator that I have come across, jogged helpfully into my mind. Of course, I always knew coconut water was “good for me” and often have some sitting there in my fridge, usually because my daughter has persuade me to buy some on a whim and I end up being the one to finish it off. Yet it was only fairly recently that I learned about its incredible rehydration properties and the fact it is full of essential minerals that do this so efficiency that, in the absence of saline, coconut water can be rigged up to a drip to save people’s lives. And, of course, Anthony Williams the Medical Medium talks about it, if slightly less enthusiastically than about the celery juice he recommends for the very same reason (as of result of which I have been consuming it daily for the last 6 months, in a shop-bought green juice mixture from Innocent, though last week was the first time I made my own straight celery juice at home…and I was completely unprepared for how salty it tastes – who ever thought of celery as salty, but it really is!) All of this is discussed in that linked article/audio about chronic dehydration.

And, of course, I knew the importance of keeping hydrated (yes, and of electrolytes in the body) but had previously defaulted to water – lots of it. Yet, when I feel like this, it’s as though water doesn’t even touch the sides, in fact the sheer volume of how much I try to consume to replenish my depleted cells only makes my tender stomach hurt all the more, I feel bloated and liquid-filled… and still I hurt…

When it comes to rehydration, coconut water is in a completely different league, I had learned for myself, especially when travelling on planes the last couple of weeks, as I mentioned in my last post Supersensitive Abroad.  After all those hours at the airport and on a plane, not to mention staying in a hotel, I found myself craving and searching for it like a pregnant woman on a mission, prepared to drive my car when I could hardly stand just to get to my next supply.

So, somewhere in that murky-headed feeling within the all-consuming pain this morning, I remembered “coconut water” and summoned the last vestiges of willpower to get to the fridge to pour myself the three-quarters of a pint of the stuff that was sitting on my fridge shelf. Here I have to admit to never having drank it in such quantity and first thing in the morning, on an empty stomach, before and boy (like celery) it is surprisingly salty. Five minutes later, I was already feeling so much brighter and more alert, like my body had finally caught up with the way my brain was feeling, which was revealed to be “decidedly sparky”. Another five and, I noticed, the pain had gone down multiple notches from a very high to a moderately low. Fifteen after that and my mind was working over time, I was eager to get out of bed and get doing things and was more than a little startled at the transformation that had just occurred.

A little part of me even took a moment to feel just a bit annoyed, at this point, that I hadn’t known about this across all those years when a crash of such proportions would have had me doubled-up in pain and its aftermath for many hours, even days, at a time.

Of course, I had thought about the possibility that essential minerals were possibly depleted when these pain episodes occurred; had bathed in epsom salts, taken high levels of magnesium, eaten as many bananas as I could manage on such a tender stomach. Had, last summer, gained some relief by sipping well diluted sole (Himalayan salt in water – see my article) throughout the day…but I was always somewhat cautious about how much to drink (given it is salt!) and nothing had come even close to this miracle revival.

Which then, half an hour after it occurred, was followed by a wave of such crashing exhaustion that I just wanted to go back to sleep again…to sleep for a week. So here was the chronic fatigue that I am used to coming like a tsunami as an aftermath to all the pain; only, usually, this would come on (or be noticed…) somewhat later, like a backlash of having coped with so much all-consuming pain to start with. Here, in miniature, in the space of 45 minutes, I was being taken through the whole sequence of pain – rehydration – crashing exhaustion – tender recovery that is the fibromyalgia and chronic fatigue pattern of my last decade. It was like being part of a specially orchestrated experience of what recovery feels like, stage by stage, under laboratory conditions, so I could step back and observe it. And the real mover and shaker in that sequence turned out to be something that delivers electrolytes to the body so rapidly that the whole sequence of recovery speeds up – coconut water. This felt like I was making a very profound connection in the journey of my understanding of what is going on when my body has these reactions to environment.

And a connection in more senses than one since, as an electrical body (which we are!), electrolytes are the body’s connectors…they are the messengers that transports those all-important electrical signals around the central nervous system. So what if “space weather” dumps a whole lot more “messages” on us than we are accustomed to; our bodies “up” their ante for as long as they can, pulling out extra resources from all our organs, our body fluids, last of all our brain (oh the headaches and brain fog that then descend!)…until the electrolytes run out and they just stop coping with all those electrical messages altogether. After that, well, the energetic influx is still happening but it crashes into us  now, like a cosmic post-bag thrown against a wall so all the letters spew out; we end up feeling bruised and exhausted, perhaps more than a little frustrated and like we instinctively know something “went wrong” or was interrupted in its very prime. Like a cosmic skype call cut short just as it was getting good, we are left hanging high-and-dry; very dry, at the deep cellular level; hurting, exhausted, disappointed and down.

My sense has always been that these surges in the electromagnetic environment impact us more over night; to do with nighttime changes in the ionosphere, perhaps, and also that we are all sitting ducks while we sleep. Plus, frankly, we are wired to receive our cosmic downloads during our dreamstate in the night; we all know that deep down, right? Particularly since we altered our house so that we have no electricity or wi-fi running while we sleep, I’ve noticed how these highly-charged nights can feel as though we have accidentally left all the electrics on….which tells me how sleeping in an “electic” house gives the nervous system no respite on any day of the year, until we exhaust our nervous systems down to the ground. Our overstimulated bodies act as though they have important messages to deliver around the central nervous system all night long when we sleep bathed in a man-made soup of electro-magnetic noise; which is why my recovery rate has been exponentially boosted, my daytime tiredness felt less pernicious, since installing that isolator switch in our house. Perhaps, also, when we sleep bathed in wi-fi and other such noise, our bodies start to treat those manmade “messages” as more important than they really are or to treat the  really important stuff (that comes in at us from our universe) like the boy who cried wolf, hardly listening…so we lose our energetic discernment and our health starts to suffer at a very profound level that science really hasn’t caught up with yet.

So what part do electrolytes play in this equation? We know they are important vehicles for messages delivered by nerves. When they run dry and there are more “messages” than ever to be delivered because our sun is sending them our way, what does this do to the body; does it look and feel like fibromyalgia or chronic fatigue? Could the humble coconut (or celery juice, though harder to get your hands on first thing in the morning) be my answer, my go-to quick antidote?

We know, of course, that electrolytes conduct electricity – which is due to the mobility of the negative and positive ions. When exposed to an electric environment overnight (such as that hotel room I stayed in recently) I certainly sweat more, urinate more…so am I losing electrolytes faster than I can replenish them? The quality of the water we drink also impacts the amount of electrolytes we take in to our bodies; so, I suspect, the fact I drink spring water has probably been of benefit to me for the last five years (I knew it had, this just confirms one of the reasons why). Key mineral electrolytes are sodium or potassium (coconut water is a particularly good source of the latter) and low potassium levels seems to have become something of a modern phenomenon. Some of its symptoms, such as low blood pressure, kidney issues, nausea and constipation and the kind of muscle cramping you would expect after going for a run (I don’t!) are ones that I uniquely associate with times of solar flare or other electromagnetic challenge but which I don’t have going on all of the rest of the time. I strongly suspect electrolytes (perhaps especially potassium) have an effect upon temperature-sensitivity and sudden onset tooth-sensitivity, both of which I associate with these flares (my hands and feet turned white-numb with cold last night, in a perfectly warm house). There are a lot of coincidental cross-references between potassium and dental pain on the internet though, to quote Wikipedia “Potassium-containing toothpastes are common; however, the mechanism by which they may reduce hypersensitivity is unclear”.

When we have sufficient of these electrolytes, we can assume that electrical impulses flow freely, our organs and sensory feedback mechanisms are running optimally and its true; once that coconut water kicked in, I felt super-connected, clearer-headed and more aware than on an average morning; I was having a zillion interconnected thoughts and raring to go. Perhaps keeping our electrolytes replenished is how solar events become the source of massive waves of inspiration and renewal that I’ve long suspected they are intended to be; not these things that tip us over into overwhelm.

electric-bodyMoral of the story, perhaps instead of looking at fibromyalgia and chronic fatigue as something going wrong, or at electrosensitivity like some sort of heinous allergic reaction destined to alienate us from our own lives, its time to acknowledge there may be a plus side that we have been missing. What if our crashes are just slightly off-kilter evolutionary bursts, requiring a small tweak here and there so we can receive energy more efficiently, can tune in more closely to our universe. Is it possible our health “crisis” has been a crash course in getting to know ourselves and our broadest environment at the intimate level, noticing some of the subtleties that other people completely miss? What if all we have learned about our electric selves (which is why we react so to our electric environment) has taught us how to better communicate with the electromagnetic field, choosing what we prefer to tune into and how to make the signals clearer and more efficient to our cells; in other words, grounding the electric signals into the magnetic domain of our bodies. What if our challenges with electricity were all about learning to make friends with the electric universe we are part of and about owning that we ourselves are electric beings, for all we are equally organic and grounded (bringing the yin and yang of ourselves together). What if we are already wired perfectly for this reality and our supersensitivity is just a sign that we are almost there because at least we are responding to our environment, receiving and deciphering the subtler signals…and then some (which many people aren’t…yet).

Perhaps, just when we think we know everything about our bodies and how they react, we can be surprised by something so simple (and which was right beneath our noses all along) being the very thing, the new insight, the dot-connector, that makes all the difference, as happened to me this morning with the coconut water. It takes a certain level of optimism to allow for such a penny to drop yet I believe one of these moments awaits all of us on our healing journey, just as soon as we are wide open to it landing as just the right piece of information we needed to receive to make our next breakthrough.


Final note

I’m not suggesting that drinking coconut water is an instant cure-all for the pain and crash of fibromyalgia and chronic fatigue but, let’s say, the insight it offered to me regarding the part played by electrolytes feels significant. An hour after my super-speedy recovery, I was feeling profoundly depleted and in more subtle but pretty all-consuming body ache (at the level of a flu) once again and – with caution – opted to sip some more coconut water throughout the morning. The effect – I felt revived and relieved of pain all over again; incredible. In fact, another hour into this and I found myself up and dancing to the music like an irrepressible urge had come over me. The key is not to overdo things as there can be such a sudden upsurge of such new vitality and yet energy levels can still behave like a finely poised see-saw for quite some time afterwards, with the potential to suddenly crash or disproportionately injure a cramped muscle around every corner. Perhaps the effect of replenishing electrolytes sufficiently to make a longstanding difference is cumulative…and I intend to experiment.

I added the cautionary note about drinking more because the salt  and even sugar in coconut water can have their own unwanted side effects (there are plenty of artcicles about this, such as this on Livestrong) so I would advise against drinking excessive amounts all at once. I’ve also noticed that a sudden influx of potassium or sodium can cause a wave of too much sensation, like electrical stabbing pains or even heart flutters (as though neurotransmitters suddenly go into overdrive) – which can be alarming and is one to watch. Note also that not all coconut water sources are equal – some, can you believe, have added sugar and other ingredients (seek out 100% pure).

Of course, there are other things you can do once electrolytes have been replenished somewhat, to encourage and continue the recovery process. I would like to stress that it is important to take things very gently for the next few hours, to keep off cellular technology and (ideally) wi-fi, to be outside in nature if possible, though not physically exerting much, and to expect to spend a very quiet day after such a crash…yes, even if you feel somewhat better! Even if the electrolyte flush makes you feel sparky and inspired, I would caution against diving into (either physical or mental) projects but, rather, recommend that you embrace the way that such times can bring massive waves of intuition and insight…so just flow with that meditative vibe (without doing too much with the information that comes in) and enjoy the ride.

Don’t forget this obvious thing – keep drinking plenty of good quality water (but not excessive amounts; instinct tells me that as an average-build woman I should be drinking about 3 litres a day, which I admit I don’t always manage). I also love (and look forward to) my pot of green tea in the morning but have known for a long time to skip this on such days as the caffeine (even though balanced by the calming effect of l-theanine in green tea) makes me even more dehydrated. Again, I recommend Anthony Williams’ blog post about Chronc Dehydration for more about drinks that rehydrate (and those that do the very opposite). I will be making a celery juice later!

Lastly, I do feel this is only the tip of a very large iceberg and that there is much more food for thought along the fibromyalgia-electroltye pathway. Keeping coconut water and celery juice in my daily diet, I will be watching to see if the effect is indeed cumulative or, in any other way, problematic and will report back with any observations or side effects.

Since posting this article I tripped upon a great description of the importance of mineral salts on the Medical Medium’s blogpage:

To understand the importance of these natural mineral salts, we have to take a closer look at how our brains are designed. The brain is filled with neurons. Each neuron has an electrical impulse that crosses from one side of the neuron to the other with the support of neurotransmitter chemicals. These electrical impulses need sodium, potassium, magnesium, chloride, and glucose to zip across the neurons successfully. Unfortunately, when someone experiences severe stress or pressure, the neurotransmitter chemicals diminish and the electrical impulses no longer have the support they need to cross the neurons. The electrical impulses may heat up as they try to cross the neurons and can begin to short circuit as a result. If enough electrical impulses short circuit in someone’s brain, there is a high likelihood that the person may become addicted to something such as unhealthy foods because brain fog, confusion, and fatigue often result in excess hunger. In these moments, what your body actually needs is glucose and mineral salt rich foods which can help cool down the electrical impulses and support the neurotransmitter chemicals. Incorporating the heavy metal detox daily is another important practice as you heal from an addiction. By clearing heavy metals out of the brain, you can make room in the brain for neurotransmitter chemicals to build up and thrive once again.

See source article HERE.


Disclaimer:

This blog, its content and any material linked to it are presented for informational purposes only. They are not a substitute for medical advice, diagnosis, treatment, or prescribing. The material and opinions shared are anecdotal and should not be considered to be medical advice or diagnosis. Please consult with a licensed healthcare professional before altering or discontinuing any medications, treatment, diet or supplementation program, or if you have or suspect you might have a health condition that requires medical attention.

More energy…not less

It’s a truth I’ve come to own over years of learning to hold the equilibrium of my physical body that allows me to lead a normalish life – akin to countless others who think they have a shortfall of energy, I possess almost too much energy inside my cells rather than  too little. Those waves of crashing exhaustion that periodically seem to want to floor me are because my tank is overspilling with energy, not running dry.

It’s an observation that was first made to me, outside of myself, by my excellent therapist, who takes an energy reading at the start of every treatment session. She would feel the barrage of kinetic fizz strobing off me as soon as I entered the room and, one hand held over my torso or my head would confirm, I was running hot with energy, supersonic with energy; my whole system was abuzz with electric charge that almost sent her spinning back from the table. She could tell how my propensity was to fry my own biology, like an electrical circuit that is of such a high voltage that it blows the whole circuit board (and there was often a “just in time” feeling about the sessions I  had with her, though that urgency happens less often these days). She would make it her hour’s mission to bring my voltage down sufficiently for her to work on the subtle misalignments of my nervous system and fascia and I would walk out of there feeling cool, calm and, perhaps for the first time in a while, truly surrendered to tiredness (not crashing exhaustion) as though I could sleep for a week.

There’s a question I was on the verge of throwing out to my social media audience, so often did this thing happen to me that it used to seem weird and concerning yet, in the context of this post, it no longer perplexes me like it once did. That question is, do any of you set off security alarms for no reason as you enter and leave shops because I certainly do? It happens all the time, shop after shop with tedious repetition…happened just the other day when I was out with my husband. I’ve developed the habit of hanging around near the threshold after I leave, like I can’t quite make up my mind which way to go so they can see I’m not doing a runner with hidden loot stuffed up my coat. Monday was the first time for a while (inevitable sooner or later) that a security guy actually came out to accost us, picking on my husband to give him the third degree. “No, its me” I owned up; “it happens all the time, I just trigger alarms wherever I go”. He looked genuinely perplexed when I said this, observing he had never heard of it happening before and wondering if it was something like a hidden security tag attached to my bag. “No, I’ve tried all that, walked in carrying nothing but the few clothes I’m wearing while someone else holds my bag, my jewellery and the contents of my pockets…and still triggered alarms”. He was genuinely bewildered but, at some level, I’m really not at some deep instinctive level where I understand myself better than my conscious mind knows with its logic.

I’m also one of those people that can mess with the functioning of technology when my energies are spinning high and who gives out electric shocks with an “ouch” factor; my daughter and I give each other powerful shocks all the time. In short, I’m like a nuclear power station at some deep-cellular level that no one can  ever make head or tail of and I think it’s probably a characteristic in common for people with Fibromyalgia and Chronic Fatigue Syndrome; I suspect it has traits in common for those who develop Alzheimer’s and MS and I know it has a lot to do with electro-sensitivity and reactions to certain foods, especially sugar (which I wrote about in my last post Knowing Your Sugar Tolerance ), as these are the straw that breaks the camel’s back of a secretly high-energy person who thinks their battery is constantly flat. Thing is, I know this has nothing to do with the way I am eating anymore; I eat fresh, light and almost always raw these days yet, with regular slow-burn energy sources designed to keep my engine ticking over. My fundamental health has never been better yet I burn out and I tip over – still – like the best of them.

Beyond any excuses, any theories about breakdowns in my system, any failings in my health, I honestly think it’s just me, the way I’m designed…and I say that with confidence because I see also see it is a feature of so many others, especially women. And when I notice it as an ever more common trait – this burgeoning power that wants to be let out of its box more like fireworks filling the sky with chrysanthemums of colour than a slightly damp match –  I find myself wondering why it is generally considered such an inherently “bad” thing, this hot flush, this almost too much to handle thing that toasts our cells until we learn to live more in tune with our bodies on our own (not society’s) terms. What if it isn’t a failing at all, this heat and overwhelm, this feeling that you might just burst in your attempts to contain it; what if it’s just a deeply misunderstood, therefore misdirected, thing. What if this is a rising power, a kundalini force, that is here to serve us and then us the world as women learn to lead the lives we are meant to live on our own best terms, following our hearts; a power that waits only for us to learn how to handle it without frying our own synapses. Perhaps this is that time of all our lives, a sort-of coming of age, when we get to do this very thing…and not a moment too soon, for our own health and that of everyone since that is the kind of trickle-effect it would have if women stopped imploding themselves with their own self-denied energy hoard.

Because I recognise the trait in my mother too; you could just tell she was a woman of abundant energy and power, not in her chosen lifestyle or an urge to run marathons (no) but it was a tangible thing about her; something that I witnessed scaring people when she entered a room. Yes, everything about her had an energy, a force you could register without a word being said, yet it became a power misdirected, drawn inwards out of shame or a feeling that nobody wanted it. As with so many women of her generation, it was assumed she would pour all of her energies into making a home, taking care of her children, her husband, his mother but, for many women, that was so often the snake eating its own tail of frustration in the end. She got very little back for herself in return for all this effort of taking care of others and worrying for them; no sense of letting her own personal passions take flight. In the end, it inverted, drawing back inwards to hide out in the dark cave of her liver – the mulching ground of the body, where we tip all those big unsightly things we don’t really know what to do with, convinced they are just another waste product like the cast offs from our diet. Only, sometimes, it can be like tossing a sofa into the tip and the recycling plant finds what we put in there way too huge to process…and so, from nowhere (she wasn’t even a drinker) she got liver cancer and died far too young after a lifetime in which the zenith of her power had been poured into kneading bread, lugging shopping and dragging a vacuum cleaner. This is what happens when we don’t know how or when to own and thus direct our innate power; and, irony, when this becomes chronic we can feel like we have no power at all.

I woke up in that utterly depleted state of “no energy” just this morning; really, I felt as though I could just about crawl to a sofa and stay there all day if only I had that option. These days, I know better than that and crawl…instead…to my yoga mat. Two minutes later I felt the wisdom of my actions bear fruit as the energy carpark that I had built up in my cells in the night started to shift and redistribute. It felt like a cork popping as this energy freed itself from its holding spaces and started to flow like a gently babbling stream through all the cell walls that make up human me and then, like watching candy floss whip up from a vat-load of sugar, began to string and spiral, to fluff and spin into an  energy gauze that encompasses the whole of “little” me, becoming “big” energetic me as I am as an energy body operating in the broad energy field of subtle existence. This is the field where we start to direct our best intentions, to connect with other people and circumstances outside of space-time and to live our best (most powerful) lives!

morre-christophe-121645.jpgSo why do we find it so hard to connect with this super-inspired energy field as soon as we wake up in the morning and set about our day; why do we so often feel chronically leaden and “done” before we even start, only to slip further down that slide and self-medicate with more foods and behaviours guaranteed to make us feel more depleted as the day goes on? If only we had one of those infrared cameras that show pockets of heat we would probably find our nighttime energy accumulation was all stockpiled into one, maybe two places when we wake in the morning…likely our heads, our stomachs (depending on what and how late we ate our last meal) and that whole solar plexus region where we ruminate about our lives. So, it’s not that our batteries are flat after we sleep; it’s just that all this energy is waiting to be re-directed in positive ways that truly serve us, not left to stagnate in well-guarded pockets of cells that become our pain zones while our overwrought nervous system exhausts itself knocking at the door of the hoard, asking for small hand-outs of fuel. Right at the core of this distribution process (which starts with gentle movement, such as yoga, to engage the body with it) are the practices of mindfulness and self-love. When we step into our day mindful of ALL that we have at our disposal instead of a lack mentality; aware of our innate power, which is something we need never fear drawing upon since it is ours to use as we see fit, we are already on the way to accessing our stockpile of life force, our prana…and then learning that it has no end, there is only more where that energy came from, on demand. Partnered with an abundance of self-love that means we regard ourselves as more than, not less; spilling over, not depleted; capable, not useless; accumulating, not losing; having more resources than we quite know how to handle (though we can learn how) rather than having nothing at all…well, everything changes after that!