Category: Pain, Sickness and Death

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Who Would You Be Without Your (Injured, Painful, Fat, Diseased) Body?

Money! We’ll be looking carefully at what it means…and our apparent “problems” or concerns with money: earning it, getting it, keeping it.

8 week teleclass: Wednesdays, March 19 – May 7. 5:15 pm Pacific Time/8:15 pm Eastern time. Waking hours in Australia, Japan, Indonesia. Write if you’re interested grace@workwithgrace.com.

******

Physical ailments, a state of physicality that feels less than perfect, whether a head cold or a torn hamstring….or cancer….often carry with them a stressful response. 

The disease seems to arrive, the condition. I now have this condition, it’s inside me, THIS body, mine, the one I inhabit.

I’m the one with “x” happening. 

And then, with that ownership, faster than the speed of light, the mind grabs it and says (when it feels stressful) what it means, that I have this condition.

  • I can’t go to that party, I’ll miss out
  • I’m dying
  • I’ll miss everyone
  • I detest this feeling of pain
  • this is all temporary
  • I’ll never run, play, jump, flip, bike, move, dance again

So sad. So infuriating! Who set this entire world up like this, anyway?! Such suffering!

My mind almost always has a comment about whose fault it is (mine). Then there are the other people whose fault it is (parents, history, pesticides). 

Nothing wrong with looking at patterns, gathering information, making huge changes to see how it affects the current status.

But that underlying sense, that dark cave below, that voice that is disappointed….or terrified….can feel dreadful.

Can’t I just think about something else? 

With inquiry, I love turning to face it and take a good look.

Oh, by the way, remember my leg? (All eyes on me!) Well, I almost forgot about it, and returned to my old dance recently, like I used to before I tore my hamstring last fall. The joy I felt on the dance floor was so sweet, I was ecstatic.

And then a few hours later, hmmm. Some dull aching pain radiating from my injury site.

And then the next day, my back and hamstring hurt so much I couldn’t get out of bed. 

Is it true, that I am condemned to reduced movement, decline, pain, aging, discomfort? Am I missing out?

Yes, yes, oh yes. Cry. Fist shaking at the sky. 

Am I sure that it would be better to be my definition of health, right now? What am I looking for anyway, eternal life? Never feeling any pain, ever, ever?

This is an amazing question, to even open to the idea that it might not be as bad as I think. Or I might not want what I *think* I want.

“We try to accept what is, and I’ve come to see that this is just a beginning. To love what is, is how you know that you’re right with yourself. It’s a state of gratitude that you’re living out of that is entirely stimulating, and motivating, and it always replenishes….When we’re of right mind, there is no loss.” ~ Byron Katie 

How do I react when I believe I’m missing something, losing something?

Angry, calculating, sad, upset, snappish at people, unhappy, grabby, panicked, fast.

Gratitude? Uh, that would be NOT. 

(And don’t get upset with yourself for not being grateful, you’re not supposed to jump to grateful, unless you do…it’s not “better”. Is it true that you should be grateful, when you aren’t?)

Who would I be without the thought that my physical state is wrong, a mistake, bad, off, incomplete, imperfect?

Without the thought that having this body means I have to feel pain, I have to miss out, I’m losing something?

“When you finally awake, you don’t try to make good things happen; they just happen. You understand suddenly that everything that happens to you is good. Think of some people you’re living with whom you want to change. You find them moody, inconsiderate, unreliable, treacherous, or whatever. But when you are different, they’ll be different. That’s an infallible and miraculous cure. The day you are different, they will become different. And you will see them differently, too….All of a sudden, no one has the power to hurt you anymore.” Anthony De Mello

If I looked at this physical state, this sickness, ugliness, injury, pain, as one of those people that I’ve been judging…who would I be without these thoughts? 

Even just a tiny smidgeon of an idea? Not inconsiderate? Not treacherous? Not dangerous?

Turning the stressful thoughts around:

  • I can’t go to that party, but I won’t miss out (it’s a party right here, with myself)
  • I’m living right now
  • I’ll won’t miss everyone, I’ll be connected to everything
  • I accept this feeling of pain, not against it, could I love it even?
  • this is all temporary…halleluia (instead of oh sad)
  • I’ll always run, play, jump, flip, bike, move, dance again…I could have what these things bring, like ecstasy, always
“It’s your last chance in this incarnation, as your body begins to fade – or you are becoming aware of this limited lifespan. It’s your last chance to go beyond identification with form. This is true whether it’s to do with your body, or somebody else’s body.” ~ Eckhart Tolle

 

Who would you be, without your body?

Much love, Grace

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Fear Loves You To Fight It

Dreams can be really disturbing. The ones you have at night, when you’re sleeping.

Random, chaotic, funny…..or horrifying.

The other night I woke up terrified because I was falling off a cliff. I’ve had this dream before. During a meditation retreat.

The body reacts as if the dream really happened. I woke up with my heart beating wildly, and adrenaline shooting through my veins.

Sometimes people say it’s hard to shake the nightmare when they have one, it may haunt them for awhile during their day.

Movies can bring on the same physical reactions. It’s like we’re on an emotional ride with the characters we’re watching.

We start sobbing when someone dies, or grit our teeth when someone does mean, bullying things.

Often when people have bad dreams, or see unsettling movies, they will they exclaim that they wish they could forget about it.

God, I wish I’d stop feeling so scared, quit picturing that awful scene. I wish I hadn’t ever seen that film! I wish I didn’t ever have that nightmare! What’s wrong with my mind, showing me such rotten, freaky scenarios! Jeez! 

We don’t want to bring up a bad memory, either.

I wish it would GO AWAY. I wish I would forget that ever happened!

The thing is, resisting the dream, being against it, pushing it away, believing that you need to forget about it ASAP….

…often brings on the opposite of what you’re seeking: more fear, anger, worry, dread.

When I used to compulsively eat, my fear was obvious. The eating was frantic, secretive, like a big scream. I ate fast, viciously and feverishly. Like I was starving to death.

Some people eat, or smoke, or drink, or engage in all the tons of other kinds of addictive behaviors like shopping or computer surfing out of a similar fear….dread, worry, nervousness, anxiety.

What if we took a look at that feeling of fear, and questioned our judgments of it, using The Work?

Is it true that the images you see should go away, that you should be calm, not anxious…that you should be relaxed instead of triggered?

Yes! Of course! Who wants to be haunted by a bad dream, or a scary movie?

Are you crazy?

Can you absolutely know that it’s true, without doubt…I mean do you really know that whatever has frightened you should vanish from your mind?

That you should forget it? Like it never happened?

No. Apparently there’s memory, visions, images, remembering over and over, revisiting, looking.

I have no idea if that shouldn’t occur.

Your answer may still be “yes” though. You may feel the dream should stop scaring you, should stop being there in your mind.

So how do you react when you believe the thought that whatever has frightened you should leave? That the fear itself should vanish, ASAP?

For me…I spent a lot of time running.

Quick! Distract yourself! Quick! Find the scary thing and kill it! Quick! Find comfort! Quick! Slam the door and lock it!

I shouldn’t have this feeling! I hate this feeling! I can’t stand this feeling!

But who would you be without the thought? Without the belief that fear, anxiety, nervousness or dread will destroy you and should be avoided?

Strange, right? Without the thought that Fear Is Bad?

I would be a little more open to it. I’d allow it to be as it is. It’s an energy. A wave. It comes and goes.

I’d notice I have no control over this thing called “fear”.

If I wasn’t against fear, I wouldn’t attack the things that produced it, like movies or bad dreams (or people).

I wouldn’t protect myself with such care, making sure I don’t ever feel fear or anxiety.

Without the thought that fear must be gotten rid of…must leave…?

I’d be so much more open, inviting more in, not running away. Standing on solid ground, rooted, willing, letting go.

Without the thought that feeling fear is a terrible thing, I’d take a huge deep breath, and then another.

I turn the thought around:  

This sensation, this image, this mental picture, this feeling….. should stay. This horrible scene in my mind is OK to allow to be there. This wretched memory doesn’t absolutely have to go. 

As odd as it may seem, when I allow everything to stay right here, including the terror of death-by-falling-off-a-cliff it begins to look lighter.

Letting that bad, terrible scene you really experienced be there, instead of fighting to get rid of it, you may finally find your sweet relief.

“This energy of fear loves a good fight. It’s an internal bully. It LOVES for you to try to get rid of it. To try to transcend it. To try to go beyond it. Fear loves it, it feeds on it. The more you try not to be afraid, the more afraid you get. The more you try not to be anxious, the more anxiety you feel….[Instead], grant permission for almost infinite space for fear and anxiety.” ~ Adyashanti

What I notice is, I can’t get rid of fear. Fear happens.

Nightmares or dreams, or vivid memories occur. They fill the mind’s eye.

But letting these pictures be there is honest.

I’m afraid.

When I don’t argue with reality, I feel afraid, and then I feel space, or I feel comfort, or I feel love.

I live through frightening things. I live through feelings of fear.

“In my experience, we don’t make thoughts appear, they just appear. One day, I noticed that their appearance just wasn’t personal. Noticing that really makes it simpler to inquire.” ~ Byron Katie 

Don’t be afraid of your fear, your pictures of fear, your fearful dreams, your fearful memories.

You are here despite them all.

All is well.

With love, Grace

 

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Interview with Brooke Thomas on The Work and Physical Ailments

I had a most delightful time talking with Brooke Thomas, an inquirer who has a business called Fascia Freedom Fighters.
She interviewed me for her radio show “Interviews With Geniuses”.
(Geniuses? Are you thinking what I’m thinking? We’ll talk about that later—like tomorrow!)
I hope you enjoy the interview:
Much love,
Grace
P.S. Pain, Sickness and Death, mentioned in the interview, will be offered again in late spring.

 

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The That Was Soooo Hard Story

If you missed the link with my eGuide on my own personal recovery from eating issues and how you can begin to understand your own, to download it (for free) then click HERE.

If you click the link, your email will be added to a separate list for people interested in eating/food recovery, including the program starting in January. (You can unsubscribe any time from that list).

*****

Yesterday, on the longest night of the year where I live…I suddenly knew I was just a little bit better physically, in this journey with the body.

My upper thigh looked less swollen at the site of the injury, the searing pain in my pelvic bone, the pins and needles throbbing in my foot and the chalky sticky aching feeling in my ankle, the throbbing in my calf…….were all quieter than previous days.

I was suddenly so happy. Relieved.

It’s as if there is this part of the mind that is filled with doubt, dread, fear and visions of darkness. I had those parts visiting at various times, hanging in the air of my room as I stared sometimes at the ceiling.

That part is frightened. I said to myself “I’m going to be here again, in the future….who knows when, but I will be here, unable to move from the bed, on my journey to death”.

I wondered what age I would be when it happened again. I wondered what life will be like from now until then…will I be more careful? Will I be afraid to climb mountains, do gymnastics, jump?

I look back at my extreme nausea, only about six days ago, and I could have the thought about it “that was SOOOOO HORRIBLE!”

The vomiting on top of the need to lie immobile, what an ordeal!!

But even as I thought it, another part of myself is asking “is that true?”

Is it true that it was sooooooo horrible in that exact moment? Did I really barely make it through this whole experience? Was it truly a horrendous, rough ride?

These can be stressful thoughts.

Even if in the moment I think them, I may also feel relieved, and glad to be on this side of the experience.

Yet my thoughts about that other side of the experience, that terrible side before the healing could begin, can actually start to multiply if I give them weight, if I believe them.

  • that was horrendous, I never want to go through that again
  • I couldn’t add one more thing, if any other symptoms appear, I can’t take it anymore
  • if I got breast cancer right now, I would hate the world and reality
  • this experience proves that the world is a dangerous place

I will never forget when one time, I was describing a very difficult break up with a very close friend to a wise mentor I trust, who knows me well, and I said “that was so hard, I can’t believe it happened”and shook my head in sadness.

And this wise old mentor replied “It actually wasn’t that hard for you, from the way I see it. It was emotional, and full of feelings, and those feelings rose and fell in waves…..but not much else changed in your life. You’ve done really well with this, you’ve come through it learning more deeply about human nature, and yourself.”

What????

Oh! WOW!

Could it be that it is NOT absolutely true that something I’ve been through in the past was horrendous, dreadful, hard to believe, shocking, incredible or that I barely made it?

Yes, what I have been going through is not unusual. It is not hard to believe. It is normal. It is a part of being alive. And its over. It’s only a memory, already. It’s a partially seen story.

It’s not that shocking to endure an injury. Or betrayal. Or sadness, fear, angst, terror, or deep grief.

Who am I when I believe the thought that experiencing what I call difficulties is tragic, frustrating or hard?

I’m scared of the future, I replay the past. I become less aware of the present. I feel upset about “life”. I get confused about not understanding it. I make plans to figure out how to solve the “problem” I’ve had or never have it happen again.

I begin to feel like the darkness will last forever and that I can’t stand it anymore.

But who would I be without the thought that hard times “prove” that life is sad, tough, or surprising? That darkness stays dark?

I’d notice that things fade away and then return, and all is a huge mystery. There is light, then dark, then light again. And I do not know what anything actually truly means.

My leg breaks, then it mends. And I didn’t have to do anything. I was just following along for the ride. Something flowed, in the story, and it kept flowing.

“The ego lives by comparisons.” ~ The Course in Miracles

Without the thought that challenges are….well….challenges….jeez, my story ends. I feel gratitude, peace, emptiness.

There’s really nothing to do.

“Any feeling is just a feeling arising in you, in awareness. For example ‘I’m not spiritually connected’ or ‘I’m unawakened’…all that is a story. See it for the story it is, and then turn around and recognize that which is seeing the story. Then it’s all over.” ~ Stephen Bodian

I turn my frightened thinking around and find…perhaps my thoughts have hurt me more than my body has hurt me. Whatever this “me” is that I’m referring to. Which seems to be other, or greater than, my thoughts or my body. Ha!

  • that was amazing, I am willing to go through that again
  • I could add any thing, if any other symptoms appear, I can take it (and I can release it)
  • if I got breast cancer right now, I would love the world and reality (astonishing, but true–I see so much I love in the world)
  • this experience proves that the world is a safe place (astonishing again! and out of the pain came ease and sweetness)
Do I want to tell the story of the pain and how hard, with dread, complaint, unhappiness?
Or do I want to tell the story of joy, healing, peace and discovery that I am not only this body, or this mind…
….and that maybe, this is easy?
The second story seems truer.
“Most people think that they are what their thoughts tell them they are. One day I noticed that I wasn’t breathing–I was being breathed. Then I also noticed, to my amazement, that I wasn’t thinking–that I was actually being thought and that thinking isn’t personal.” ~ Byron Katie

With love,

Grace

P.S. If you want to get the free guidebook to peaceful eating, click HERE.

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Outside The Worriers’ Guild

The big news of the day yesterday: I turned over on my stomach and got to take the leg brace off while lying very still.

The room was quiet, the lights bright, no one was home for a few hours.

After slowly maneuvering my torso to carefully turn over, never engaging the hamstring muscles on the right leg….letting it stay relaxed and dangling…

…I found myself staring into the corner space just past my mattress in my bedroom.

Nice view, now what.

Then I stared for thirty minutes at the stack of books, the far corner behind the dresser, the wire leading to the cell phone on the floor.

My worried smaller mind started in, as if taking some invisible bait.

  • this is pure torture, who am I kidding?
  • I am trapped
  • this is depressing, boring, pointless, sad, awful
  • this is what life will eventually come down to, I’m getting a little preview
  • my time here is limited
Ai me! Life is so temporary! All so brief!

 

But oh the little thoughts fly around like gnats, don’t they? And they come in as fast as fruit flies.

 

Just when you think they are gone…turns out…its another moment. And they are multiplying again with gusto.

Good news. They can dissolve as fast as they multiply. Really.

Is this a real story? Is this a true story? 

Yes it’s true! I know this life is only for a while, even a short time in some cases! And unpredictable!

The reaction is the key. The reaction is pain and suffering, blooming and multiplying.

How do I react when I believe I am trapped, it all ends, my time here is limited, and this is depressing, boring, pointless or sad or terrible?

Physically weak, fearful, unhappy that I don’t know more, that I don’t understand. I want to understand All This, I think that then I will be more accepting, I will get it, I will grasp.

When I believe the thought that I am trapped here in this injured body, that can barely turn over today, I am frustrated, desperate…even if only for a moment.

Wringing my hands. Beating my chest. Worrying.

Feeling sorry for myself.

But who would I be without this story, these beliefs that I am trapped, stuck, bored, that my life is so temporary, that this moment RIGHT HERE is not a good one?

Without the thought that this, now, is bad?

Wow. It is so spacious. Something ungrips, uncurls. Waits.

Something is here, unknown, unplanned, far far far beyond whatever this person is who is lying in bed today. I remember other people, in other houses, other countries, words, poetry, sounds, music….life going on, life playing on.

I turn the thoughts around, the whole story right around upside down:

  • this is pure bliss, who am I kidding? (Me!)
  • I am liberated
  • this is expanding, exciting, meaningful, happy, wonderful
  • this is what life will eventually come down to, I’m getting a little preview (fabulous!)
  • my time here is unlimited
Could this be as true or truer? Could I actually feel happiness, peace and bliss here, right now, in this moment?
Why not?
Deep breath, time to turn back over. And then, time apparently to take a sip of water, and after awhile more, time for a friend to knock on the door and bring delicious food to eat.

I do not need to know what is going on next, or next, or next.

The Worriers’ Guild 
Today there is a meeting of the
Worriers’ Guild,
and I’ll be there.
The problems of Earth are
        to be discussed
        at length
        end to end
        for five days
        end to end
        with 1100 countries represented
        all with an equal voice
        some wearing turbans and smocks
        and all the men will speak
        and the women
        with or without notes
        in 38 languages
        and nine different species of logic.
Outside in the autumn
        the squirrels will be 
        chattering and scampering
        directionless throughout the town 
        because
they aren’t organized yet.~ by Philip F. Deaver

Who would I be without my story?

Perhaps finding gentleness, kindness, darkness, space, light, disorganization, no plans, and no direction. And it is OK.

“I am a lover of what is, not because I’m a spiritual person, but because it hurts when I argue with reality.” ~ Byron Katie

Much love,

Grace

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Partial, Crooked, Empty, Dying

One of the wonderful YOI (Year of Inquiry) groups met yesterday and our topic this month is on the body.

Perfect for me, right?

With a torn hamstring, last week’s surgical repair, constipation and nausea from pain medications, my hair feeling flat as a mat and itchy from not taking a shower or bath for 8 days, I would say this body is not in the most tippy top shape you’ve ever seen it.

I object! I have some complaints!

There is nothing like a sincere, thoughtful group to stay patiently with the questions of inquiry known as The Work. I LOVED that we all gathered together to examine the body.

  • this body can’t be counted on
  • I am too _____ (fat, thin, old, young, soft, round, short, tall.)
  • things would be better if my body were healthy, fit, attractive
  • I hate that this body is temporary, declining, will one day die
  • there is something wrong with my body, with me
  • I am this body, this is ME, this is my identity

These are deep, gripping beliefs. At least I’ve found them to be.

After our wonderful group today, I kept considering the turnarounds and the beauty of the work, and more underlying beliefs.

As I lay here flat on my back, not able to even move more than a few inches to the left or right (by the way, check out the end of this email of me and my grabbers) I remembered two of my most haunting images.

One is being buried alive in a coffin about 20 feet below the ground. Ewww. I hate even thinking about it. What a horrible nightmare!

The other is born out of a National Geographic cover last year of free-climbers at Yosemite. I am falling, imagining the fall, seeing the rock cliff wall speed by, heading towards earth like a speeding bullet.

(Sorry to give you this stressful image!)

But what I realized before, and again today, is that these are simply pictures, movies playing in the mind. They are not real.

Isn’t that amazing?

All these terrible things that can happen to the body: accidents, injuries, damaging things, illness, disease, death, change, aging, destruction…

….is it true that it is all terrible? That it is all YOU?

Yes! Everyone knows it’s true! People have a rough time after accidents! I think I’m one of them, right now!

But can you absolutely know that it’s true? Really 100% can you know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that all those images and destructive changing morphing things that happen are terrible?

Are you sure that body is YOURS, that it is YOU?

Are you sure you are having a terrible, awful, devastating time?

No. I just ate peanut butter and apples and they were delicious. I’m writing this Grace Note.

Come to think of it, I’m lying in a gorgeous, comfy bed.

In the very moment the other day that I was throwing up, or in the moment that my stomach ached from constipation, I was not actually thinking “this is me” or “this is devastating”.

I was just being that…if that makes any sense. I was following the simple directions. I couldn’t help but follow them.

I notice it is usually AFTER something is over that I get worked up about how terrible it all was, how horrible, and how I almost didn’t make it.

Except I did.

How do I react when I am believing that this body here is my identity, that it is who I am in total, that it is sad that all this is temporary, or that there is something wrong with this body?

I am scared. Horrified. I see images of terrible things happening over and over. My body reacts with adrenaline. I believe the world is a dangerous place, where bad emergencies could happen at any moment.

So who would I be without the thought that this is true? Who would I be without the thought that having this body is a rough deal, that being in a body is dangerous?

Turning my thoughts about this body around, I find the following are truer:

  • this body can’t be counted on to stay perfect, and it CAN be counted on to do what it does, halleluia!
  • I am just right the way I am
  • things would be NOT be better if my body were healthy, fit, attractive
  • I love that this body is temporary, declining, will one day die
  • there is something right with my body, with me
  • I am NOT this body, it is not me, it is not my identity

Who would I be without the thought that aging, deterioration, accidents, injuries, sickness, or death were frightening? Or that they were ME?

Laughing.

Not feeling threatened. Noticing there is no need to be careful, nothing to worry about, a great unknown ahead.

A great unknown right NOW.

“Do not be afraid of what appears to be chaos or dissolution–embrace the full measure of your life at any cost. Bare your heart to the Unknown and never look back. What you are stands content, invisible, and everlasting. All means have been provided for our endless folly to split open into eternal delight.” ~ Adyashanti

(I note the words “split open” and how they do sound just a wee bit scary).

But chuckling here with the mind and it’s nervous interest in bad things, I notice also how I have watched two white lilies in a vase go from tightly closed bud to wide open flower as I’ve been lying here in my bed all these days.

I think they have definitely been split open into eternal delight.

And then they’ll decay and someone will throw them in the compost container.

“If you want to become whole, let yourself be partial. If you want to become straight, let yourself be crooked. If you want to become full, let yourself be empty. If you want to be reborn, let yourself die. If you want to be given everything, give everything up.” ~ Tao Te Ching #22

2013-12-17 10.06.07

This is me, Grace, using Grabbers to fetch my ice pack which I call Little Baby Creature From The Black Lagoon. And practicing crookedness.

Much love,
Grace
P.S. 8 week teleclass on food/eating starts again on January 15, and the Year of Inquiry for the Addictive Mind YOI starts on January 10th. Click below to read more!

 

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Feeling Pain, Having Courage

Recovering from a major physical illness, injury, or condition can sometimes be pretty frightening, or frustrating—if you start believing some of the troubling thoughts you might be thinking.

I’m lying in my bed, that I’ve hardly left for more than five minute intervals to go to the bathroom, for six days now.

I didn’t really know about how some of this process would unfold until actually experiencing it: burning sensations, aching and throbbing, pins and needles, nausea, vomiting, stomach ache, muscle cramps, numbness.

Can’t I just skip over some of this part?

An incredible moment here for The Work, on pain, sickness, treatment.

  • this is taking too long
  • I hate nausea
  • I’m afraid of the pain
  • I just want this whole thing to be over with
  • this is sooo deeply discouraging, I can hardly stand it
  • I need to be strong (tough, relaxed, calm)

Fortunately I have also present this part of the Mind that can question my own thinking, this part that is here observing, even while the other part protests.

Is it true that this nausea and pain are awful?

Yes Yes Yes. I hate feeling sick all day, I hate throwing up, and the pain in my leg burns.

Can I absolutely know that its true that what is happening physically here is terrible?

Yes! Although I can feel that I might not know the absolute truth. It may be good that this is all happening, because that’s the way balance comes back into alignment.

I am not in charge of whatever this thing is that’s called sickness, treatment, or pain.

It feels overwhelming in some ways, but not 100%.

How do I react when I believe that I’m afraid of the treatment, the operation, the recovery, the diagnosis, the nausea, the pain, my future physical condition?

Yikes. I’m discouraged, upset. I see images of still being in bed many days from now. I see myself shriveling into a little ball, never coming back to normal life, dying. I get mad at my husband for going to the store for alternative medication too slowly.

Yes, it’s true. I called from the bedroom “you haven’t left yet?!!”

I get sudden urges for the nausea to stop that feel like an emergency. I need the anti-nausea tablet ASAP. I need to stay awake. I keep drifting off. I wonder how long it takes to develop bed sores.

But who would I be without the thought that this is truly terrible, or that I can’t handle it, or that it will never end?

Very softly, there is something that shifts attention to the present rather than the future, and expands. Dishes are being emptied, I hear clinks and jingles of silverware getting put into its drawer. Music is playing in another room. There is a sound of wind in the pine tree out front.

I feel the pressure and support underneath my back of the bed. My eyes scan the room and look again at yellow roses on the dresser.

A beautiful Norwegian calendar on the wall reads “DESEMBER” and I keep having a little joke with myself “dis-member”. I feel fondness towards the crutches leaning against the closet door, my little helpers.

“Now, sweetheart, close your eyes, and go to the place where you are very, very ill. You feel like vomiting. You’re in terrible nausea. Now see if you can locate the place that doesn’t care. The place that really isn’t bothered by it. It’s there. See if you can locate it—the part of you that is unaffected. The part of you that just watches….. It’s a part–no matter how much pain you’re in–it’s witnessing, watching….. That’s the one that cares nothing for control. So let that one grow. It cares nothing for control.” ~ Byron Katie

Without the thought that this is truly terrible, hell on earth, a disaster, uncomfortable…whatever the situation?

Yes, there is a witness. Seeing this situation with a big heart, encompassing it with compassion and Not Knowing.

I turn the thoughts around that feel so stressful:

  • this is taking just exactly the right amount of time
  • I love nausea
  • I’m not afraid of the pain
  • I do NOT want this whole thing to be over with
  • this is so deeply encouraging, I can definitely stand it
  • I need to be weak (tender, anxious, the way I am)

I consider these turnarounds. I love nausea? Really? That just can’t be true, no way.

But what if my stomach and body are giving me a very important message? What if this really is taking just the right amount of time for my own enlightening process?

What if there is something vital, deep and good about finding that place inside that isn’t upset? That can let go of wishing things to be other than they are? 

“My grandmother who passed away a few years ago used to say to me jokingly, “getting old is not for wimps.” She was well aware of the challenges of an aging body, and while she never complained or felt any pity for herself, she knew firsthand that aging had its challenges as well as its benefits. There was a courage within my grandmother that served her well as she approached the end of her life, and I am happy to say that when she passed, it was willingly and without fear. In a similar way the process of coming into a full and mature awakening requires courage.” ~ Adyashanti

Today, I am willing to feel this physical experience that doesn’t exactly seem pleasant. I am willing to trust the unknown, to trust the life force that is doing all this.

I am willing to let go of needing relief NOW. I look forward to directing my thoughts towards the place that isn’t upset, has no concern, the place of peace.

The place that doesn’t believe every thought the mind thinks.

Much love, Grace

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The Perfect Harmony of An Accident

Yes, I am still here, alive and well and recovering from pretty major surgery deep into the back of my right leg.

I basically can’t do much of anything for several weeks. Even getting out of bed is somewhat of a project, and going to the bathroom (I have a padded toilet seat cover).

The sensations are varied: burning, sharp zaps, deep aching, shaky and trembling.

I watch this body, feel this body.

Stuck in bed with healing leg. All is so very well! Enjoying this as much

One moment I need to drink some water, I reach over and get my little blue glass with a straw and sip. I have the slight feeling to eat, I ask my son or husband to bring me apple slices with almond butter.

I hear the motor of a seaplane flying overhead. I hear the hum of the house heater blowing warm air into the living room.

I hear wind chimes singing uproariously from outside on the front porch, it must be windy.

In the past, when I’ve been sick or had an accident like this one…..my nervous ninny has come out like wildfire.

Seeing other peoples’ accidents has been almost worse!

Long ago, before I ever had my children (my oldest is 19) I was on a road trip with my former husband.

We were touring the entire country for three months, including parts of Canada way up in Nova Scotia.

We were towards the end of our mighty long journey. Only 2 more days back to Seattle and our little apartment that had been sublet for the summer.

With windows rolled down and August air rushing through the late afternoon light, we were driving through the wild yellow grasses and farm lands of California, traveling from east to west. The road was a beautiful gray color against the wheat fields. We were on a small, two-lane highway.

Rounding a corner, we saw something odd looking. One of those moments where it takes a half-second to register.

A ford pick-up truck was up on its side, wheels still creaking, several yards from the side of the road. Nothing else was around.

We stopped our car.

Silence, and wind.

There was movement off to the left, away from the truck. A small child of about 6 years old laying on the ground unconscious, then stirring.

I went to the truck, my husband went to the child.

Inside against the ground, not the steering wheel side (that part was up in the air) was a small woman. She was crumpled against the door of the truck.

I’m not a first aid person, but I knew to touch her neck to see if she was alive. She was. She had a ton of blood on her head and her legs looked broken.

Another car pulled up along the road and someone jumped out to help. A man’s voice was saying “get away from the truck”. I helped pull the woman from the car and move her. She woke up and started talking with slurred words.

She was lying on her back with legs stretched out, and someone had gone to call 911. We all didn’t have cell phones 25 years ago.

I stayed right by her, holding her hand, as she said non-sensical words and talked about getting a DUI and how she really couldn’t get another one.

“Where’s my son”, she said. Someone brought a blanket for her, and another one for her son, who was now sitting up.

Then helicopters came after awhile, and the mother and son were loaded in and taken off.

All the while during the crisis I felt incredibly calm, clear, and lazer-focused on stopping the woman’s head from bleeding, being with her.

But afterwards….that’s when I could have used The Work. Oh boy.

I couldn’t sleep for 2 days. I tossed and turned and saw the gash in her forehead, the blood, the truck, the frightened boy, her askew legs, over and over again.

My whole body was full of adrenaline. Like, AFTER the whole thing was over.

Jeez! I just wanted it to turn off!

But going into the images that are most frightening, shocking, difficult or terrifying and looking at them, I didn’t realize at the time, was probably the quickest way to remember my own sense of peace.

I shouldn’t think these terrible thoughts, I hate seeing that horrible situation, I don’t want to be a part of this violent scene, I never want to be in the middle of a car accident again (even if I’m completely unharmed).

Is it true?

Are you kidding me, of COURSE it’s true!! It was pure torture!!

Can I absolutely know that it’s true? Pure torture? All horrible? Violent only, zero peace?

No.

How do I react when I believe the thought that it was awful, that I can’t handle these images, that I need to stop thinking about this, that it was sooo unfortunate that I had to witness that event?

I replay the scene endlessly. I wonder why the woman was drinking in the late afternoon, where she lives, what will become of the boy. I have to know it turned out OK (whatever that is, exactly?)

I’m afraid of the universe, I believe the world is a dangerous place, with things like this happening in it.

But who would I be without the thought that the accident, the scene, the situation, the destruction….were all pure horror?

I’m not even sure how to answer that question….and yet….I see how without denying that any of it happened, there was also kindness, love, sincerity, quiet, and peace present.

Right there, on the side of the highway.

Without the thought that I should stop thinking about it, and it’s so so so terrible…

….I look back at myself so many years ago and realize that while I didn’t sleep for 2 nights hardly at all, I then DID sleep.

Time rolled on. I breathed deeply.

And I got to have very meaningful conversations about life and death with one of my sisters (where we were due that night, in California) and with my former husband.

I find the turnarounds, even though that situation was from so long ago:

I should think these thoughts (and maybe they are not terrible), I accept seeing that situation, I want to be a part of this scene (I was helpful), I am willing to be in the middle of a car accident again, even….
 
….I look forward to being in the middle of a car accident again.
 
Yikes! What a non-resistant stand, though. What a freeing perspective. What a sense that all is well, no matter what.
“This aliveness does not hold still. A friend of mine who was a surgical nurse described the shock of interns making their first cut in a living body. They’ve studied the anatomy book, they’ve dissected the cadavers, but now they’re cutting into a living organism and suddenly everything is slippery and pulsating and moving, blood is gushing out, everything is moving. This is real life. Nothing holds still. It’s a mess. And yet, it all holds together in perfect harmony — from the microscopic to the astronomical — the universe functions with perfect order and intelligence, even when there seems to be conflict and disorder from a limited point of view.” ~ Joan Tollifson

Perfect order, perfect intelligence…even in injuries, accidents.

Can you find how this could be true?

Much love, Grace

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Stop Pretending You’re In Bondage

A few days ago, I was studying the state of Anticipation.

(I can’t help but hear that word spoken in my mind like in Rocky Horror Picture Show….”an-tisssah—-pay-shun”).

The state of “now” in that present moment included deeply aching leg, very sore right achilles tendon, thigh muscles ticking independently in little spasms, an aching pelvis bone, my daughter lying on the floor on her stomach writing things in a notebook, the mailman’s little motorized truck making sounds out by the mailbox.

I had told my friends “it feels like a dagger is stuck in my right butt cheek all the way in, with only the handle in view.”

If I held really still, I couldn’t really feel anything. If I moved, just a wee bit, OOOWWWWW.

And then there’s the mind and all its ideas, visions, suggestions. Some are less stressful than others, to put it mildly.

But it occurred to me that this status of anticipating a major upcoming event is a very fascinating human condition.

You’re about to start a new job, get an operation (like me), start treatment for a disease, get divorced, go on a date, move to a new house, buy a refrigerator, run a workshop, have a baby, go on vacation, compete in the race.

The date is in the future. You really don’t know what it will be like. You’ve talked with other people. You have many questions, maybe you’ve gotten tons of questions answered.

You’ve read books. You’ve googled.  You’ve trained.

But there is nothing like actually doing it.

So weird, because there are many other things that happen that we do not know beforehand are going to happen. Unless we have one of those cool intuition thingies go on.

But whether or not you’re psychic, there are the things we KNOW are coming up at some future point, they’re on the calendar….and there are the things we do NOT know are coming, that are NOT on the calendar.

Back to anticipation.

Doing The Work when the mind is very chattery about the frightening upcoming event can make such a huge difference in the present, it’s astonishing.

In other words, I can sit here thinking about the operation, the drive to the hospital, gauze bandages, and lying on the couch at home without being able to move….

….and I can have an uncomfortable, nervous, depressed, or terrified, story about this upcoming situation….OR I can have an open, wondering, connected story about this upcoming situation.

Who would you be, in this moment now, without the thought that it could go wrong? That it could be hard? That you don’t know what will happen, or what it will really feel like?

Who would you be without the thought that it would be upsetting to lose the race, miss the airplane, not have enough money, not be able to control anything about the outcome?

Martin Seligman, famous in the field of psychology for studying learned helplessness and depression, began to study well-being in the 1960s.

Turns out, he created a manual (with the help of other wonderful researchers of human psychology) called Character Strengths and Virtues which is the opposite, or counterpart, to the DSM or Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders.

One focuses on what can go right with human behavior and thinking. One focuses on what can go wrong with human behavior and thinking.

In the most simple, simple, simple way….turning any painful thought around to its opposite and imagining if it’s possible that this be true, is a sliver of what The Work is about.

I anticipate things will go badly, I’m scared, I’m nervous, what if “x”, what if “y”…and these are dreadful, horrifying, sickening, sad.

Turned around: I anticipate things will go wonderfully, I’m excited, I’m full of energy, what if “x”, what if “y”…and these are new, challenging, wild, wondrous, thrilling.

Does it matter whether you know or don’t know what will actually happen?

Who, or what, would you be if you knew that even death, endings, change, something being over, something beginning from the very start, losing, winning, acquiring, emptying, leaving…

…was all going to be absolutely, fundamentally OK?

“Starting right now, this moment, I am asking you to become the Buddha. I am asking you to take your stand, to stand absolutely firm in your intention to awaken to the Truth of your Self……..Stand up! You are the Buddha! You are freedom itself! Stop dreaming your dream! Stop pretending that you are in bondage—stop telling yourself that lie!” ~ Adyashanti

Much love, Grace

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Bye Bye Identity

Today is the day! In about 8 hours that my right hamstring will get reattached to my sits bone deep in the pelvis. Around 1:30 pm Pacific time.

I have been limping, feeling pain, and moving more and more slowly for several weeks.

The usual marching, speedy, springing woman that I normally feel like has gone away for awhile, at least physically….

….and a new very slow person has replaced her.

I must admit. I’m a little anxious about the pain.

I saw photos of how they do this. It wasn’t exactly looking….gentle.

The surgeon cuts into the leg, slices across, goes underneath the gluteal muscle mass (that all gets lifted up with some kind of metal device), then the pelvic bone gets grazed up so it bleeds (this doesn’t sound peaceful) and then the shredded end of the hamstring that is detached gets pinned with two titanium pins onto the bleeding bone.

No problem!

Three days ago, I lay on a bench up in the choir loft of a gorgeous brilliantly lit church, the sun pouring through the colored glass and making the whole interior of the place glow with golden luminescence.

My leg was throbbing. Underneath the friendly, articulate, amused voice of David Whyte, who was standing far below (he has two working legs, I note) with a microphone….

….my mind would shout sometimes even through his eloquent words “oh god, 72 hours until the knife cuts the back of my thigh and goes deep into the place that is already throbbing right NOW”. 

David chuckled once, mid story, sun beaming towards his face like a spotlight, and picked up his podium with both hands, moving himself several feet to his left.

“I can only take so much light”, he joked.

I wonder if that’s how MY mind functions.

Because it is strong, stable, kind, loving and relaxed….and then….it appears to offer a slide show of dangerous Coming Events.

Me in a wheelchair, me laying face down for 6 weeks with drool coming out of my mouth, me crying because I can’t go outside, me not being able to get up to go to the bathroom with crutches, me with the entire right leg cut off, me realizing that this whole body thing is on its way out.

  • this is going to hurt
  • what if they can’t repair it (the worst thought)
  • I’ll never be the same
  • my life is over as I’ve known it
  • I’m going to shrivel up like an atrophied raisin, my muscles will shrink and petrify, and I will never come back to my athletic energetic self
OK then!
I know, I know, it’s a little over the top.
But allowing these kinds of thoughts to be as they are, knowing they are not all of me, has been one of the most wonderful things to accept.
“I shouldn’t think bad thoughts, I shouldn’t be worried, I should be positive, I should not anticipate pain, I shouldn’t be so dramatic.”
 
Is that true?
Can I absolutely know that it’s true that I shouldn’t be making such a fuss, that I shouldn’t be worried, or that I’m saying goodbye to my life as I’ve known it?

 

No.

How do I react when I believe that this is a troubling situation? That this pain I feel is BAD, that I’ll never be the same, or that I’ll be in MORE pain soon?
Sick to my stomach, nervous, angry, full of visions of scary images.
Who would I be without the thought that I shouldn’t be afraid?
Who would I be without the thought that this is disturbing, that it’s not guaranteed to go perfectly, or that this is a bummer?
Without these beliefs, I’m in a Don’t Know state. I feel the sensation in some parts of my leg and I’m calling it “hurt”, I write, I see other visions, I imagine myself hiking some day in the future, I hear a cat outside.
I breathe deeply.
I laugh as David Whyte talks, I see the pictures he describes. They are not of legs or hamstrings.
Can I turn these thoughts around to their opposite? YES!
  • this is going to heal
  • what if they can repair it
  • I’ll always be the same (especially the me that isn’t even a body)
  • my life is just beginning, with a new leg
  • I’m going to bloom like a juicy grape, my muscles will grow and loosen, and I am already back to my athletic energetic self

I just waved my arms around while lying on my back in the bed, laughing, my heart beating and my body getting warm enough to take off my sweatshirt.

My arms might have a fantastic, strengthening time. And my mind.

Why not?

Gratitude for everyone, for support, for change, for injuries, for surgeons, for the amazing technology of even being able to attempt to repair such things.
Gratitude for beds, couches, wheelchairs, legs, voices, blood, photographs, imagination, joy.
Gratitude for medicine, destruction, evolution, treatments….that we all move through the veil, eventually.
“We think that we’re afraid of the death of our body, though what we’re really afraid of is the death of our identity. But through inquiry, as we understand that death is just a concept and that our identity is a concept too, we come to realize who we are. This is the end of fear.” ~ Byron Katie

 

Much love, Grace