Thursday, November 5, 2009

The Gift of Fear and Grieving

Recently I was offered a special award for being an Honest Blogger. Today as day 5 of my participation in the 29 Gifts Challenge, I decided I needed to receive a gift. I spent time meditating early this morning and then made a SoulCollage® card. The first one I have felt called to create in many months. I just completed a reading on the card about an hour ago. It is brutally honest. For all of you who have grown to expect my sunny disposition...Surprise!

This image revealed a part of me I had tucked away for safe keeping. Who was I protecting? Mostly me...my kids, my husband, my parents, siblings, friends. I try very hard to keep this part of me under wraps, because it's the really dark part of me. FEAR and GRIEVING.


I'm not so much afraid of the new drug's nasty side effects anymore (you know the big one, PML-the brain infection that could potentially kill me...I do understand that the possibility of that happening is really, really low-I'm willing to risk it.)

No. These are the questions that are plaguing me in the rare moments I let my guard down:


*How do I know Tysabri is going to slow down the disease process?
*How do I know if it will improve my symptoms?
*How do I know that I'm not going to become progressively more incapacitated and end up in a nursing home before I'm 50?

The truth is, I can't know any of this right now. It's all about faith.

My doctor has seen Tysabri work for other patients. I like her, she's smart and kind...
and, I just met her Tuesday.


*I have to have faith in my doctor...this lovely, intelligent stranger.

*I have to have faith in the drug manufacturer...that they mixed everything properly.
*I have to have faith in the nurses who will administe
r the infusion to me...all of this still assumes that the system won't fail me and I will be given the drug and our insurance will cover the largest burden of the expense.
*I have to have faith in my body to respond well to this medicine...my body could reject it, that happens sometimes.

*I have to have faith that God will be beside me, inside me, every minute of every day.
(OK, this one I really do believe.)

The other questions will remain questions for a while...perhaps a long while. If all goes as planned I'll be on this drug for a year. And then....
And then we cross that bridge.


Faith will have to sustain me for now. Finally something I do know, because it always has.

Here's my SoulCollage® card followed by the reading:

Who are you?
I am one who has sad eyes.
I am one who is tired, exhausted.
I am one who has fought this battle for so long.
I am one who feels lonely and frightened.
I am one who is still standing but needs support.
I am one who aches for change, for healing for renewal.


What do you have to give me?
I offer you an opportunity to admit that you are frightened, to say how tired you really are.
I give you permission to be sad sometimes, to grieve for fights that are un-win-able.
I give you permission to go to the dark places that scare you.


What do you want from me?
I want you to open your heart compassionately to that grieving part of your soul.
I want you to say that you are scared some days, that you feel lonely and weak.
I want you to be "ok" with sharing the sad feelings.
I want you to know that you don’t always have to be sunny for every body else.


Is there anything else you want to tell me?
Sometimes the light is tiny in the vastness of the sky, in the vastness of your being, but the light is still there. You can feel
all of this. Stop trying to protect others, yourself, from your fears. They are real. They are ok. You are ok

What is your name?
Bruised But Still Standing

So my friends, do you see how this is a gift?
I gave myself permission to be honest. Now this card does not negate my sunny, "What's the blessing in this" nature. Not at all. It allows those dominant moments to glow even brighter and to shine love and compassion on and into the wounded, Bruised But Still Standing part of me. Yes, I am an honest blogger. And that means fessing up to all of my feelings openly, so that others will know that it's "ok" for them to love and accept all the different voices within their own expansive selves.

Fear and Grieving are gifts
:
Fear
is like an arrow pointing the way to what needs attention.
Grieving
is the arrow tearing a hole in my bound up heart...allowing more love and healing to flow.

One of my favorite quotes of all time is from the Kotzker Rebbe:


"There is nothing so whole as a broken heart."

In other words, it is precisely our brokenness that allows us to comprehend our wholeness.

Monday, November 2, 2009

Me and My Shadow: Giving and Receiving

Hey, that's me!

Well part of me.

Or am I this landscape, this path?

I posted another image from this series of shadow photos taken in the bog near our home last October. It was the first frost of the year...before my daughter was diagnosed with Crohn's, before I had shingles and vestibular neuritis (a clever disguise for MS). Although in some ways I relate to my shadow differently now, in other ways my understanding remains very much the same. I still recognize that I am part of something much greater than simply my separate self. Giving and Receiving, living with My Shadow have both expanded my connection to others, to everything.

Currently I am reading the book
29 Gifts: HOW a MONTH of GIVING CAN CHANGE your LIFE, by Cami Walker. (the purple link will take you to her website 29-Day Giving Challenge-you can buy her book there and learn about the global giving movement she has created!)

A new online friend, Kimberley, recommended this book to me. (I seem to be making a lot of new wonderful friends of late all through the magic of the Internet!) Cami, like me and about 2.5 MILLION other individuals around the world live our lives walking/limping/rolling side by side with this uninvited shadow/teacher called Multiple Sclerosis. . I like the image of side by side better than visualizing this mischievous companion inside of brain and spine, wreaking havoc. (Even though that's where it is physically) Side by side allows me to differentiate the me who is healthy from the parts of me that are seeking renewed health. Maybe that sounds ridiculous or like I'm playing pretend with reality...and maybe that's true...or perhaps you understand the creative perspective I'm choosing here.

Mostly, mentally, emotionally, spiritually I am quite healthy...in fact, mostly, my body is healthy, aside from my brain and spinal cord, my other major vital organs are in pretty fine working order...it's just that my central nervous system doesn’t always pass along messages the way it’s supposed to...and then my coordination is "different", my physical balance is "challenging", my speech is "interesting", my muscle strength is "variable", my energy level is "better than it was a few weeks ago, but still not what it used to be". AND at the same time, I can breathe on my own, walk on my own around our house (with the assistance of a cane for balance in other places or wheel myself about if I get too tired), I can use my hands to type out my thoughts, feelings and experiences, I can hug my daughters and husband, cuddle my dog, sit in meditation, move through some seated qigong sequences. Can I do all the stuff I used to do, like clean the entire house? (No) Do the laundry? (A little) Prepare meals for my family? (I can heat pre-cooked food in the oven) Drive the girls wherever they need to go? (Not yet) Go to yoga or NIA classes (again, not yet). I am far too fatigued to complete most of these activities, let alone start them. My body is healing. It is a process. This exacerbation will pass eventually. I remind myself of this daily. In the past few days I am noticing some gradual improvements...they are small, but they are happening!

MS (aka My Shadow-think Peter Pan) is sewn onto me quite well, (remember what a fine job Wendy did for Peter?) It seems to follow me wherever I go these days (which is mostly to the doctors/pt/acupuncture/and an occasional lunch date), but as I said before, it accompanies me, side by side. Admittedly, when I am feeling frustrated, experiencing pain, stiffness, garbled speech, profound fatigue...it feels more like it's climbing right onto my lap and trying to fill me up. Yes, I get angry and frustrated and cry, just like every body else that's having a bad day. But, let me get back to the beginning of this post...the 29 Gifts idea. Discovering the blessings in each moment and the acts of Giving and Receiving shift my thinking so the emotions and physical hardships don't completely overwhelm me.

Giving: Before I started to read this wonderful book, I noticed that giving was taking on a "New Look" for me. I started to realize that giving has a very important balancing partner, receiving.

Recieving
: For years when people offered to help us (me and my family), I usually said, "No thanks, we're fine". Now I've been sick on and off for 10 years...it took all this time for me to "get it". I finally realize that being able to receive is equally important in the symmetry of giving. Receiving graciously completes the circle.

In the past when I was able to physically do more, people would thank me for things, and I'd say "Your welcome" with a smile, but feel a bit embarrassed, because whatever I did always seemed so small and not worthy of such heartfelt thanks. I didn't understand then that it is vital to fully accept other people's gratitude toward us when we give to them. I couldn't imagine that anything I did was that valuable to somebody else. Not that I was rude, I just hadn’t learned to take in the depth of gratitude the receiver was feeling. Now that my family and I are constant recipients of abundant generosity I see things differently. I feel things differently. I also could not fully grasp the impact of giving on the giver. When someone says, "thank you" from their heart, those two words "thank" "you" are a gift-to both the giver and the receiver! Those two simple words are part of the whole.

Maybe you aren't like me and it's easy for you to accept other people's gratitude. If you are like me however, (or like I used to be-it's a work in progress)... please, please listen to what I am saying to you right now: YOUR SERVICE TO YOUR LOVED ONES, YOUR FRIENDS, YOUR COMMUNITY IS OF GREAT VALUE AND YOU ARE APPRECIATED, RESPECTED, LOVED! And, when I say service…it might be as simple (and kind) as handing someone a tissue when their eyes fill with tears…opening a door…letting someone with a cranky, tired child step in front of you in line at the cashier…it might be a hug…a phone call…an email…a home cooked meal…a ride to an appointment or to work or school…maybe it’s a prayer for healing or simply thinking about someone who you know is struggling and putting out loving energy toward that person. Gifts take on surprising, delightful forms.

So how does this all help me to walk side by side with MS (my shadow sewn to the souls of my feet)?

1. I’m learning how to be a gracious receiver-from delicious home cooked meals from our extended Temple Beth Abraham family to allowing some friends to do our laundry (that was a tricky one to accept), receiving acupuncture from an incredibly compassionate wise woman, Sandra Gray, learning Qigong via Skype from my dear old friend (since Jr. High!) Art Baner, receiving phone calls and emails and cards and books in the mail (even apple cake, lovingly made by my Mom and sent to us in New Hampshire from Florida!)

That’s half of this circle.


2. I am learning to give in new ways. I cannot prepare meals for others, or even drive my car to visit someone else that is ill (let alone chauffeur my kids to all the places they need to go), gifts I have given in the past. But I blog…I share my thoughts, my hopes, my dreams, my photographs, (even my daughters’ inspiring photos and poems), my gratitude. I offer links to other wise, kind individuals blogs and websites. I share links to organizations that support others in these turbulent times of war/environmental disasters/poverty/economic difficulties and devastating illnesses. I speak kindly and encourage other patients at physical therapy as we re-train our muscles to do what they’re supposed to do. I always remember to say, “have a great day” to the many medical receptionists and nurses I talk to on the phone juggling appointments for my family and me. I email my friends when they are having tough days and they need advice or simply to let them know that I’m here "listening"; they are not alone. I email my friends when they are having great days and we want to be totally silly and make each other laugh. I do what I can from my bed (and there have been a lot of hours spent in bed in recent months) I give by offering words of inspiration, by sharing my story. It seems, from the comments and private emails I receive (daily) that this is a form of giving that is valued…that is healing…that is needed in the world right now. So it is more of an electronic doing, than doing with my hands and feet…but it is doing, it is a form of giving; people around the globe graciously receive it. And most importantly, the circle is complete because when I share from my heart and then receive the lovely responses back from many of you…I feel stronger, I feel loved, I remember that I am connected to others even if I cannot see or touch them. I know that on some level…perhaps many levels, I am healing.

Here is a delightful passage from Cami’s book 29 Gifts that I want to share with all of you. To set it up, her Aunt Janelle just flew in to Los Angeles, CA from Omaha, NB to help her clean her apartment.

Cami Walker quotes a favorite spiritual teacher, Lori Del Mar:

...”’A closed hand cannot receive.’ As I watch Aunt Janelle drive off, I realize that she hasn’t just given me the gift of a clean house. Accepting her help is a gift. It was challenging for me to say yes and have her come all this way to scrub floors, but I know Janelle feels happy that she was able to help me. It is such a relief to feel my fists unclench and open up to others.”


This morning I am going to see Neurologist number 3...Admitedly I feel a little nervous...but my intention is to allow my heart/mind/soul and fists to be open to whatever gift she has to offer me in the form of her professional guidance as my healing journey continues.

May all beings receive refuah (healing) in whatever way this gift shows up today.

Sunday, November 1, 2009

Annual War-or Simply Transition?

Lonely Leaf
-Photo by Rosewillow Hegfield


Annual War
by Belin Hegfield

I saw a leaf of red and purple
Twisting gently on its stem

It clung to the branch

As the wind whipped by

A gale designed for

The destruction of those

Silent beings

I saw that leaf hang limp

When the breez
e had ceased
I saw it as a war banner

When the battle is won

But the
cost is too great
To feel a victory


I saw that vibrant leaf

Hold fast to life
Then at a slight breath of air

Surrender to the inevitable fate
Of trees

From the window I watched

It fall, borne by nothingness

Tumble

And hit the ground in
audibly
Joining the others who had
Come and gone before

That night I walked
Beneath the tree
Then s
tood still
Gazing down at

The tomb of fallen leaves



This lovely, sorrowful poem written by my nearly 16-year-old daughter Belin this past week, spoke directly to my heart. Her title,
Annual War gave me pause, however. For me
, these transitions from one state of being to another are not a war at all, unless that is our mindset.

There is a difference between loving life until that "slight breath of air surrender(s) us to the inevitable fate of trees" (all living things)...
and fighting, kicking and bitterly screaming, becoming warlike at the end. Because the end (as John O'Donohue so eloquently taught us a few blog entries back) is not an end at all, as "our very life here depends directly on continuous acts of beginning". This is exactly what the gentle acquiescence of the leaf Belin observed, tumbling inaudibly in the poem above, is. (IMHO!) It is a continuation of beginnings. Immersed "beneath the tree" within that silent "tomb of fallen leaves", is an even quieter womb where an infant seed will be protected from the frost and snow, nourished with the decaying corpses of her (the leaf's) ancestors, waiting for the warmth of spring to send her tender roots deep into the earth as her slender shoots reach up toward the sun...continuing the process of life bearing life over and over again.

Fighting, in my way of thinking would have been a waste o
f precious energy...energy if preserved, that could fortify the next generation of trees. Surrender, is not an act of giving up. It is the art of allowing life to flow as it is meant to. Struggling, fighting is a temporary measure that may postpone the inevitable, but will not prevent its ultimate unfolding. And why would we want it to really?

Perhaps what my maturing daughter perceived as a "war banner" was simply a gift, a portent for her to witness. This red and purple leaf twisting, could it be this leaf's mode of dance? Was this nature’s choreographed reminder to pay attention to just how exquisite and precious life is? Not a "sorrowful farewell", bu
t a "sweet hello", an invitation to jump in the pile of leaves, playfully listening not to the silence but to the delightful crunchiness gathered beneath Belin's feet. Each foot fall breaking down the drying leaves, enabling them to become food for next spring's crop of baby trees; a celebration, a simcha.

Our perceptions have tremendous potential. As Anne Marie Bennett taught us about our thoughts in my last blog entry when she said:
"I think the main thing is that it is a choice... I could choose to be grateful. I could choose to see the glass half full. It’s always a choice."

I love the
somber tone my daughter chose in writing her poem. I adore her ability to be empathic toward a single leaf. This too is a gift that will allow her to connect genuinely throughout her many relationships with fellow humans, animals, all of Creation as she blossoms into adulthood. Often our children are our greatest teachers, and I am grateful for this lesson of compassion from my eldest daughter. And yet, I hope that after reading what I have written, she will take a moment of pause, as I did upon absorbing the wistful words of her poem to contemplate the full range of possibilities that the falling leaf she beheld represents, beyond it being a casualty of an "annual war".

My heart's prayer is that perhaps she will consider that it was a banner signifying an opportunity to celebrate the transitions of life...like turning 16, stepping nearer the threshold between childhood and adulthood...learning that it is indeed a dance and she can return to childlike frolicking, prancing, bouncing, playing no matter what her chronological age. Joy is always an option. Though the dance steps may vary from those of her younger years, (as bodies are wont to change, transform and transition through the ongoing procession of time or illness- mine a perfect example)...joy need not be lost. Perhaps the "dance" will not include twisting or bouncing, stomping or strutting as she ages, but instead a smile that engages her eyes "tripping the light fantastic" in a flash of merriment and unabashed delight!

Rosie's Funky Boots
-Photo by Belin Hegfield




As any blogger knows, one of the many benefits of this self publishing art-form is that we can include the work of our own creative children (with their permission, of course) on our pages. What a wonderful showcase in which to feature the talent of burgeoning youth! The snapshot to the right is of my beautiful daughter Belin, author of the poem above and photographer of Rosie's Funky Boots at the bottom of the post; clearly not solemn in all moments. The Lonely Leaf image at the top of the page was taken by my impish, equally lovely daughter, Rosewillow, on the left. (she's almost 13)

Although I had planned for several days the this entry would focus on the poem by Belin and some images that felt relevant, as well as my response to my daughters' words, I freely admit, I was inspired to include photographs of my girls when I viewed my new friend Deb's blog entry that incorporated her Four Angels (as she lovingly refers to her daughters). Thanks Deb for a great idea! Be sure to click on the purple link above to see Deb's gorgeous girls and read her insights about life.