I'm taking a few days off from Hiveworld. Last Friday through Wednesday. It took until yesterday afternoon to begin to really relax, let go, be gentle and soft and surrendered with kitties, and with my living.
I've been drinking three green smoothies a day. They sound gross but are actually startlingly delicious. It's just greens (as in some sort of green leaf) and fruit (anything, as long as it's fresh) and water. Blend it on high for a few minutes, or blend for 30 seconds using a Vitamix. That's it. Some of my favorites:
- cantaloupe and romaine lettuce
- spinach, banana, and strawberries
- parsley, butter lettuce, apple, and mint leaves
- dinosaur kale, frozen blueberries and frozen bananas
Over the years I've done juicing, which never agreed with me, making me either spacey or gassy or both. The past few months I've tried blending, as in veggies like collards, carrots, cukes, celery, ginger, cilantro, maybe chunking in a banana or some agave syrup to try and mask how truly vile it all tasted. Not only did it taste funky, but after weeks and weeks of drinking them, I couldn't feel any difference. Then I happened upon a book about green smoothies, tried it, and hot holy dang, this sh*t actually works. I've got a long way to go, but green smoothies? They're the jackpot, baby. Alternate them with rice protein shakes made with coconut or almond or rice milk and a couple of tablespoons of plain whole milk yogurt, and you've got a party in your belly. Mmmmm, deliciouso!
I also gave myself a mini soul retrieval with the shaman I've been working with in California. I've done three full sessions with her over the past five or so years, but this go around, I got that it was about getting assistance rather than laying down and having someone heal me. She totally understood, really got it, and it's exactly what I needed. I'll give more details as it goes on. It's a process that's going to take some time.
Because a great deal of this time off has been waking up in the morning to really sit in, really experience how sick this body is. To feel the fire along my spine, the inflammation that expresses itself in puffy dry skin, swollen patches in my mouth, the ache and pain in belly and gut, lips so dry they're always chapped, aching joints, eczema and a colon that is currently very unhappy with its station in life. Not about trying to pretend it isn't occurring. Or play with kitties to take my mind off it. Or run for another few acetaminofen or ibuprofin or rescue remedy or herbs or hot baths with eight different kinds of aromatherapy and epsom salts and mineral bubbles and cider vinegar and honey and Emmaline squeaking rock-a-bye-baby as she gives me a scalp massage.
We spend so much time pretending we don't feel badly, covering it up with distractions and drama and pastimes and spiritual seeking. And so much of it is a basic lack of nutrition, and a toxic load on the digestion and elimination system that is causing a systemic breakdown. Soul Retrievals help. Writing as autolysis helps. And as the heart and mind and spirit empty out, so must the body.
I've failed a hundred thousand times. Each time, somehow, someway, I get back up. But now I get back up and leave my sword on the ground. Now I get back up and raise my arms and say:
I'm yours Life, burn whatever you want to, all I pray for is the grace to say thank you, the courage to remain in the flames, and the strength to keep getting back up whenever I fall.
Green smoothies, fire ceremonies, writing, facing the awareness of this inner a*sshole, this f*ckwit of a self.
Fall down. Get back up. Shoved down. Roll to the left, get back up. Punched down. Roll to the right, get back up. Fall down. Get to my knees. Fall down. Get to my hands and knees. Fall down. Get up. Fall down. Get up. Fall down. Get up . . .