Tag: injury

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I can’t take it anymore with this body (my Stephen Hawking turnaround)

“I can’t take it anymore!”

I said this internally in my own head, not out loud, as I looked at the ceiling over my bed, unable to even turn over because of pain.

I had torn my right hamstring right off my sits bone by doing a gymnastics move I hadn’t done in 25 years. I wanted to reverse time, go back and fix it. I wanted it to not have happened at all.

Now after surgery I had a full leg brace to make sure I didn’t move, and my right leg was sort of withered looking.

I had a huge scar from left to right the full width of my upper right thigh in the back under my butt cheek where they drilled the hamstring back into the bone and held it fast with two titanium pins.

This was the ninth day of lying on my back in bed. Every time I got up to go to the bathroom, it hurt horribly as I dragged myself there. I couldn’t put any weight on the right leg. I couldn’t sit on the seat (I had a huge thick cushion put on the toilet seat and still couldn’t).

At that moment of looking at the ceiling….again….

….I tried to turn over onto my stomach.

It hurt so much, but I was determined. I could get out of the bed, so surely I could turn over and lie on my stomach for once?

Ouch.

I tried and kept trying, and then finally flopped over like a block of wood getting turned over by a tiny ant. Or a fish lurching over on a boat deck.

Then on my stomach, I stared at the place the floor and the wall met. I had a great view of the carpet.

OK, here I am on my stomach at last. Now what.

I stared at the floor for about 30 minutes, and lay there feeling the relief of being off my back, and on to my stomach, and then eventually realized I needed to turn over on my back again if I wanted to anything besides stare at the wall.

Slow pushing, careful turning. Flop.

And then the thoughts broke through.

I can’t take this anymore. I’m trapped. I’ll never be the same. This is horrible. My life is over.

I did The Work.

I got to trade facilitation with a beautiful certified facilitator, so I could stay close to this process without jumping out and into Doomsville.

Is it true, you can’t take it anymore?

Yes. Cry.

Are you absolutely sure? Can you know it’s not possible for you to “take this” anymore?

(Note the victim role, I am a very small potato and the world and reality are massively huge and all-powerful and I’ve lost).

No, it’s not true.

How do you react when you think you can’t take it anymore, and something very tough is happening?

Pictures of dying, declining, failing, never running again, never biking again, never getting up again. I see nothing good here. My sense of being this small ant in the universe is dreadful, sad, furious, self-piteous.

So who would I be without this story of oppression of the body, this injury being “bad”….and the thought that I can’t take it anymore?

Oh my.

I paused when doing this work for a long time to answer this question…imagining being unable to think this thought that I can’t take it.

I noticed how much reading I was doing (hands straight up overhead with long arms holding the book directly over my face), watching interesting videos, still teaching telecourses and working with clients. Still running the Year of Inquiry.

I noticed I didn’t think about my injury or even remember I was in bed when doing any of these things.

Without the thought….

….I’d be free, relaxed, navigating the next thing, the next thing. Watching life unfold around me, without the thought. Watching how things change, and how I’m not in charge.

I’d be aware of how truly having this thought was what was stressful, nothing else really.

Turning the thought around: I CAN take this anymore. I can’t take my THOUGHTS about this anymore.

This suddenly made me smile.

I began to wonder about this idea of “taking it”. Gross. It sounded so passive and violent. And yet, to consider the turnaround that I could take it, then it could mean something different–like I was capable of taking, and even transforming it.

Or, it wasn’t even “me” that would be transforming “it”, but instead something was taking this and working with it.

Plus I notice taking and giving are a paired type of energy, so there was something giving, and something taking, and energies flowing. I’m watching it all. I’m participating.

And then, as I did this work, I saw Stephen Hawking in my head.

He can’t turn over, and I don’t see him complaining.

In fact, he’s doing some kind of amazing life journey living an incredibly unexpected life with ALS and offering his unique genius in the world in the form of physics and philosophy and explaining it all to humanity.

I immediately found videos with his electronic mechanical voice (since he couldn’t even talk) and listened, mesmerized and overjoyed by his explanations of the universe and space.

He could take it. He could carry on. He could have a brilliant life full of passion without moving much at all.

“The greatest enemy of knowledge is not ignorance; it is the illusion of knowledge.” ~ Stephen Hawking

My own illusion of failure, pain, decline, the need for a “working” body, death, injury was a grand illusion.

YAHOO!

I can’t take it–not really. That could be a fun turnaround of joyful laughter, not depressing fear and self-pity. It’s not possible to “take” it. It was only my invention in that moment of suffering.

It wasn’t even true.

Thank you Dr. Hawking for your contribution to the world and to my turnaround. You were an inspiration to someone far away who you never met in real life.

By questioning my thoughts, I wound up with appreciation for my injured body.

Because of that incident, I quit my part time job completely to go full time with facilitating The Work, I learned how to do yoga instead of gymnastics, I learned more about astrophysics from someone who didn’t need to have a “working” body in order to be happy.

And that person was me.

Much love,

Grace

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Not Minding The Pain

Feeling Pain? Take Care of Yourself, But Also Do The Work

Have you ever had pain that appeared slowly, over time, where you weren’t sure what you did, how it happened….

….but you find yourself hurting, overwhelmed, and practically all attention directly on the pain.

I’m talking physical pain, but, this can happen with emotional pain as well.

All you can think is “get me outta here!” or “where’s the pain killer!” or “OK, OK, you have my attention!”

Many will think of these moments as decisive. Something cracked, they couldn’t take it anymore.

Perhaps a dreadful sense of destruction–it’s over, done, finished.

Recently, something changed with my easily-healing hamstring injury from last year.

Oh sure, there were moments in the past six months when I felt I might have overdone it on the dance floor, or pushed a little too hard at the gym….

….but this was different.

A squeezing, deep, strange nerve-like clutching pain starting in the hamstring I hurt and beaming up into my ribcage.

Several days went by. It got worse and worse.

I finally took motrin, and called the doctor.

And went to a chiropractor, and followed the next simple instructions for what was advised since being pain-free was desirable.

We’re very interested in being free from pain, especially when it really hurts.

We get motivated to move towards whatever “pain-free” looks like.

But what if, no matter what you “do” there is no “pain-free”?

Whew. Dang.

Then what?

This is broken. It can’t be healed. I hurt. Ouch. 

Who would you be without the belief you absolutely MUST find, do, fix something, even in the middle of excruciating pain?

Who would I be?

Strangely….someone hurting physically….but somehow, without the discouragement, or sadness, or dramatic images of doom.

Movement happens.

I move towards researching what helps, who can help, making decisions, collecting more information.

Simply doing everything with an open, don’t-know mind.

And how very odd…..

….Here’s what I am amazed to see: it hurts but I am not upset about it. 

No fear, no urgency, no sadness….unless there is.

No trying to ignore it.

“I pour hot tea from a kettle into a cup, and I don’t see the cup is cracked, and the hot tea spills out onto my left hand. Ow! What an adventure! Even as my hand starts to throb, I’m aware that waht I’m watching is absolute perfection. How can I believe that my hand is not supposed to be scalded when it is? Why would I move from reality into a fantasy of what my hand should be? When inquiry is alive inside you, thoughts don’t pull you away from loving whatever happens, as it happens. Pain is always on its way out; it’s the story of a past. All the pain we have ever suffered, all the pain that any human being on this planet has ever suffered, is gone in this present moment. We live in a state of grace.” ~ Byron Katie

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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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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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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This Body Should Be Different (As In Healed)

The Pain, Sickness and Death telegroup started last night. What a fabulous group of inquirers.

I always say “this is my favorite class!” about every class as it gets underway, but I thought that again.

Because remember that MRI I told you about last week?

I found out my right hamstring is torn and read something in the report like “only a few fibers are connected”.

Visions of floating, ripped, shredded ends-of-hamstring…..with the last threads hooked to the bone ready to get disconnected any minute….popped into my mind.

They should be connected!

Milliseconds later, almost simultaneously, Attack of The Self movie begins. What a ding-bat! I told you I shouldn’t have done that gymnastics move! You are so stupid! 

See!?!

The thoughts come in like a wave. This situation is not good. Things are floating when they should be attached. I’ll never run, jump, dance, do gymnastics the same again. It’s all down hill from here.

But honestly…and I don’t know how this happens except from constantly returning to The Work and inquiring into these fearful beliefs…about 30 seconds later I was wondering what interesting, good, or advantageous thing would come from this?

Bizarre, right?

But thank goodness.

Ask the four questions often enough, and they start to sink in or become more automatic, it seems.

Is it true that this part of the body should be connected to that part of the body?

Is it true that anything that you’ve observed that is separated from something SHOULD be connected to it instead?

I have thought this many, many times, in many situations…dishes that broke in two, relationships that ended, friends or family who I haven’t seen,  buildings where the roof was blown off by a hurricane, divorce, my child leaving home.

It really should have stayed connected. That would be better!

Are you sure?

Yes. This is painful. This costs money. This is hard. This is sad.

Can you absolutely know that it’s true?

Even if you answer “yes” again…carry on. It seems like my hamstring really should be connected to the bone. Although I can’t necessarily know 100%…it would be my preference.

But this is not about MY preference.

Oh. Right.

I can feel what it’s like to believe that any of these things should be connected, as they once were….not separated.

Angry, disturbed, terribly frightened. Visions of what has to happen to fix or repair it.

So who would I be without the thought that the state it is in, apparently disconnected and separated, is TERRIBLE?

I have no idea what this means about the future. I’m way more relaxed. I’m very curious about what the sports medicine doctor says when I see him.

I turn the thought around to the opposite: the hamstring should be disconnected from wherever it’s supposed to attach.

I should be disconnected from that person, that house, that friend. Those dishes should be broken.

I may have no idea why….yet.

But even being open to this turnaround being as true…that is expansive, I’m anticipating with an open mind.

I get to feel that this “body problem” is not so important. Joy is still present. Joy and Peace are still possible, right here, right now, with disconnected hamstrings.

“How do you live when you believe the thought that your body should be different? How does that feel? “I’ll be happy later, when my body is healed.” “I should be thinner, healthier, prettier, younger.” This is a very old religion. If I think my body should be different from what it is now, I’m out of my business. I’m out of my mind!” ~ Byron Katie

WOW! Amazing situation, and I’m living in the middle of it, wondering what will happen next….since it’s up to Reality and the business of Something Bigger….not me.

All I can do is open to what’s next .

My part is inquiring. My part is to open my hands, stop clenching against this situation, to stop feeling like a victim.

“Stop pretending that you are in bondage—stop telling yourself that lie! Stop pretending to be someone, or something! You are no one, you are no-thing! You are not this body or this mind. This body and mind exist within who and what you are. You are pure consciousness, already free, awake, and liberated. Stand up and walk out of your dream. I am here to say that you can do this.” ~ Adyashanti

I can walk out of this dream—and I don’t need a hamstring to do it! Ha!

You can too.

Love, Grace

 

 

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The Work Stops World War Z

This past weekend, I was facilitating my Saturday morning dance and dripping with sweat and bursting with inspiration, as usual, and I decided to do a few cartwheels.

A few cartwheels is not a big deal for me, I did them non-stop from age 10 through 16 and then often beyond that, so they are kind of part of my natural movement.

But then I felt myself pretending I was on the gymnastics mat from almost forty years ago (astonishing, as it seemed like yesterday) and go for a round-off.

Suddenly I was back in my memories and living them out right in that moment….the run, the build-up, the intention to go hard, fast, and push off the floor and fly into that awesome movement of palms down to the floor, body flipping upside down and over, feet landing with a great spring and jump….

….and as I soared through the air, in my fantasies and in real life…..I felt a searing pain jab through my entire right leg from upper hip, shooting down into my knee and even my foot.

I did not fall, but it felt like my right hip was ripped out of the socket (that could be a little dramatic).

Thirty seconds later I was talking to myself “Yeah, that’s right. Walk it out. Keep moving, don’t sit down”.

I couldn’t have sat if I wanted to, there was such a huge pain in my right butt cheek.

I felt nauseated.

And then, I felt scared. And defiant. Like…OK that happened and NOW it is going AWAY.

Right? Universe? Hello?

In that moment of pain, and then the moments that followed, the mind kicked in with commentary about the situation.

  • Should I go to urgent care? But I’m still walking.
  • I need to know what happened, I need an assessment of the damage.
  • I’m an idiot.
  • Don’t let anyone see that you just did this to yourself
  • I am aging, just like everyone else. I can’t do gymnastics anymore (and this is terrible).
  • That was stupid.
  • Now I’ll miss: birthday party, bike ride, work, driving, doing whatever I want, accomplishing things around the house, writing (can’t sit up)
  • I can’t stand lying flat all day long, this is boring
  • I should welcome this opportunity like a meditation retreat
  • boy howdy, I’m not putting up with my no-dairy diet today! forget it!

Alarm bells! Panic Button! World War Z!

On the way home, wincing a bit and furrowing my brow, I could see my mind panic with visions of my end of life, no more dancing, sitting all crinkled up in a chair at age 100, suffering, remembering my life in gymnastics all those years ago.

Sad, upsetting, life-is-rough-then-you-die, down with pain, the beginning of the end, its over!

Thank goodness, as I took some turns into zombie-belief-land, turns out I had made a date to trade sessions in The Work with a very dear facilitator.

I wrote down my judgments on my hip, and all the ways it should change.

The most important being….it should not have gotten hurt. That simply shouldn’t have happened.

I watched my mind have a hissy fit. I made coffee and put half and half in it, even though I’ve been consuming no dairy for a few weeks. I felt sour.

I texted the two most top-level athlete friends I know and asked them for advice. One said something about tears and operations to reconnect ligaments.

I didn’t like this situation.

Stop. Is that true?

Even with the mind strategizing all the ways to heal quickly, prevent it from every happening again, and chide me for being stupid….can I really know that this SHOULD NOT HAVE HAPPENED.

Because it actually did happen. So arguing with reality is a bit, ummm, presumptuous.

“I don’t order God around. I don’t presume to know whether life or death is better for me or for anyone I love. How can I know that?” ~ Byron Katie

WITH the thought that this event shouldn’t have happened, and I should not be hurt, I am entirely focused on the hurt. The worry. Imagining my days ahead. Sorry for myself. Angry with myself.

WITH the thought that this shouldn’t have happened…cream in my coffee suddenly becomes necessary. I need things to taste good.

Stop again. Who would I be WITHOUT the thought that this should not have happened?

Such a bizarre and foreign question. The mind normally races off, so dang positive its right about getting hurt.

But what an incredible question to contemplate. What if I really did not believe that this was BAD BAD BAD? What would that be like? Who would I be then?

It’s an adventure. Everything I thought I was doing is cancelled. Open territory.

I’m right up into the deep questions of the cosmos. Not caught up in the to-do list and busy.

Everything stops.

I enter the opposite field, where all is well. I am studying this experience, instead of raging a war with it.

  • I lie down and take ibuprofen medicine
  • I don’t need to know what happened, or become a doctor and understand the entire gamut of possibilities and hip anatomy
  • I’m a normal human being, not a zombie OR special
  • I have nothing to hide or be ashamed of
  • I am aging, just like everyone else, halleluia. What a fascinating path.
  • do I really need to do round-offs to have a happy life?
  • That was brilliant!
  • Now I’ll gain: slowing down, staying home, watching a movie with my daughter, watching another movie with my husband, reading about Buddhist practice in business, doing nothing, having time to do The Work with my friend for 2.5 hours
  • I love lying flat all day long, this is exciting
  • this IS like a meditation retreat

I watched the advantages come alive about this situation, because I decided to look for them, not resist them.

Watching myself be human.

“When inquiry is alive inside you, thoughts don’t pull you away from loving whatever happens, as it happens. Pain is always on its way out; it’s the story of a past.”~ Byron Katie

In the moment of the round-off pain did I love it? Well. My mind did not. It was doing its Emergency Management thing.

But I notice that now, a few days later, and after doing The Work, I am relaxed, quieter. Writing this sitting up.

Drinking a cup of tea with coconut milk.

Love, Grace

P.S. If you’re like me and you need support to stay in inquiry, connecting with other wonderful humans all of whom are interested in remembering to question their thinking….then come join either the One Year Program (fantastic small group of genius inquirers) or the 8-week Relationship Hell To Heaven teleclass. Both meet on Thursdays.