I think I've felt a little too nervous to post. Too superstitious. It all still felt too dang scary. Like I was crossing over an abyss, high in the air, scuttling along across a six-inch wide plank, praying my fat ass wouldn't send me flying. it really didn't feel like the time to stop and share. But it does now. I'm still on the plank, but I've got a bit of a groove going on, and my heiny is even shaking to the beat of some distant drum, and I think I hear a sax, and life is really good.
I'm down 11 pounds. But that's not really the point, just the side effect. The point is that I'm not in agony any longer. My hands aren't ragingly rashy, my orifices aren't teeth-grittingly itchy, and I only look like I'm going to give birth to a single rather than a quad of bouncy baby yeast monsters.
I'm not eating any meat, or dairy, except for plain whole milk yogurt once or twice a day. I'm having an egg or two a week. I'm drinking a protein shake a day, a really high quality whey one, made with watered down vanilla almond milk and a tablespoon of yogurt. No solid food at night, except for a small amount of berries with yogurt. I snack on fresh ground almond butter with celery. I'm eating lots and lots and lots of vegetables. Lots of them. And I take the rinds and ends and leftovers and boil them for 3 hours and make veg broth, which I drink by the mugful through the day when I'm doing a "liquids only day" which has been happening a couple of times a week. I drink plain scalding hot water throughout the day. And yes, okay, coffee! High quality organic with vanilla almond milk and stevia, because I really just love how 6 am feels when I'm rocking the caffeine and writing as the sun comes up . . .
And of course all this is just what I've found has been working for me. For someone else, it'd be different. As in partially or totally or something more or less or other. And this is also the point. None of this is coming from any other place than inside of me.
And of course that was the turning point, this realization of turning away from outside influence, going in for the next step on the path. There was one distinct moment where I asked myself: why isn't this working? What is the cause of the suffering? What have I been doing over and over and it's not working and I keep hammering away at? And instead of yet again trying to figure it all out, I stopped and I prayed:
Thank you, Life, for bringing me this health stuff. I know I keep f*cking it up with trying to control it, trying to make it go away. And I'm here, letting you know, that I give up, and I give it to you, because you always take such good care of me. You turned the cancer thing into such a good time, such release, and so I'm giving this one to you too. Let me know what you want and I'll do it. And if you want to smite me sooner than later, I pray for the grace to go out with humor and surrender, eyes wide open, laughing and joyful and letting go into the pain, if pain continues to be part of the program.
And of course, everything changed. At every junction, every place where a seeming choice arose, I asked my solar plexis: Yes? And if yes was indicated, I flowed in that direction. On and on, over even the simplest actions. And so much magic began materializing all around me that there was no doubt what the dealio was: Surrender is the way to go, baby.
There's so much I could write, but I want to get going on my novel. I let myself sleep in until almost 8am this morning, snuggled in with all four of the kitties, and it was luscious, but I didn't greet the day with coffee and the novel's tribe. And it's calling to me. Can you hear it too? But I'll leave you with this:
For a couple of months, I've heard-felt a pulse, a push, and it went like this: you need to dance, you need to move your body in a non-structured, non-"exercise" fashion, you need to shake that ass, you need to f*ckin find your groove again, you need to break free of the prison of inflammation and funk and No like those trolls did in The Wiz when they came out of their gnarly twisted costumes by simply unzipping them and flowing out into the world. But standing in the living room, the music thumpin, the cats starin: nuthin but No.
Then a week a ago I met a chick who'd just moved to town. Really cool chick that founded this amazing urban church in Denver. We've hung out some and she's super chill and hilarious and smart. And she's started up this dance thing in town with the amazing dancer who founded this dance troup . Improv movement. Cool tunes. $5. And last night I went. And it freakin rocked the Casbah. Everything from My Morning Jacket's voyage into electronica to Michael Jackson to Mad, Mad World to shamanic trip-hop. Magic. Behind the pain and the funk and the inflammation, the aching back and swollen belly and crampy pancreas, I felt that luscious flow of body, that connection to the Yes of movement that used to be an ever present part of my living. So Life willing, guess where you can find me every Friday night forward for a nice long while?
So Life is so very very good . . . Emmaline snoozing in my lap, caramel coffee in my cup, the day stretching out before me . . . Yes . . .
Comments are open . . . add your energy into the Yes . . . if you need some Yes, take some, if you have some extra, leave some, all is good . . . :)