Well, I just finished one of the most grueling hours with my therapist. I wanted to do some really deep work today around my health issues, especially the GI problems and my “holding on” for dear life. Because that’s pretty much what I do every day. Hang on by the tips of my fingernails, swaying to the music of my limited life. And I wonder why I’m constipated. Constipated living will do that. Well, opiates too, but that’s why I need to be mindful with everything else I do and say.
I have written about my “helpers” from the other side, but there is one that is on this side that I seldom speak of. She is “little Sherri” she lives inside of me. I think everyone has an “inner child” (who I use to call “my inner brat” before I learned how wise she was) who knows more than we do. She (or he) remembers everything, holds back nothing and helps with anything we ask of her/him. I was in tears the whole time. I often forget to hold her close to me and ask her about the past and the present. She is indeed wise
When I’m not railing on about lovingkindness, forgiveness, gratefulness etc., I am wailing about “poor me” and how little I have and what a waste my life has been. The abyss seems to call me much of the time, showing me (read The Choice…in here somewhere) the darkness. Little Sherri shows me the light. It is her on that mountaintop ledge that gently points the way to the beauty of life.
It’s funny because my sister just got a job for the first time since her kids were born 18 and 17 years ago. She was lucky in that way, but now wants to return to work. She and her husband have had many good things in their lives; many trips, private education for their kids…that kind of thing. She’s had her share of tough challenges too. I have never cared a hoot about the “things” and have always happy for them, though I have to admit, there were times I wanted that choice. But I was actually jealous that she is going back to work. Not being able to contribute in some way is what eats me up. I do my best with this blog and talking to the few people I’ve talked to who have NF, but it doesn’t feel like much. I have to let in that the small stuff counts too, but it’s hard.
When I close my eyes and conjure up my helpers from the other side, mostly women I have known in life (mother, grandmothers, aunts) I “hear” their words (which are just thoughts…I don’t hear voices) when I ask a question. And when I’m really a mess, like I was today, I sometimes wail that I just don’t get why I have this horrible body and why oh why do I have one problem after the next with it. And today when I was doing that, wondering why life is so damn hard (not just for me although today, in that moment, I was only thinking of myself) I got a very strong message back about my life this time around (if indeed there are more than one chances). I heard: “This one is for the soul”
It was like all the air seeped out of my bluster with my situation. And I pray that I won’t forget it. Because in the end, one life or multiple lives, it doesn’t matter. It’s always for the soul. But many people who have busy lives don’t have a chance to ‘get’ that. Not all, but many. Even people like me, with one challenge after the next don’t get that. It’s back to the “May you have an easy life” thing that I have written about. An easy life isn’t necessarily what the soul needs. But who knows, maybe I’m wrong. I just know my body needs a rest. And my soul needs to stay open to whatever life brings.
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