I read my Open Heart letter to myself last night. I succumb even though the timing was not right, kids running in and out of my room. I think I may have done this so the words on the page couldn’t get all the way through my ever so sensitive skin. My words touched me, but I turned away from their full power, they merely glanced off my heart. I have been quasi ill since last week when I was in California. This odd illness comes and goes, I get tired and achy, my ears fill of fluid, my throat swells up with a burning that makes it hard to swallow. Makes WHAT hard to swallow I wonder? This colicky illness lingers, refuses to either leave my body or take hold of me in the relegated to bed sort of way. I was turning a blind eye to the distinct possibility that it is emotionally based. This morning my friend Roland asked, “Is there something emotional you have yet to deal with, to speak about, that you that you are avoiding?”. Well DUH! This mystery illness started right when I closed a door in my life. A friend once asked me if I wanted him to fight for me, I was struck by this bold and concise question. He has a knack for those kind of question , it was a similar one which started our friendship, back when he was a stranger. It was liberating to be able to answer, “Yes! I do”. I am a fighter, always have been, must be locked deep in my genetic code. Last week when I shut a door, i gave up on a fight that I realized was no longer serving me. Giving up on a fight is not easy for me, especially given my kind of fighting is not done against but rather FOR things I believe in. I have been mucking round in a bit of a melancholic inertia since I came home. Like my illness, not quite taking hold of anything, but also not moving forward. I decided I needed to do something about all this. I had tried feeding my illness sugar and wine to push it into full flourish, a deliberate poisoning, with no luck. Today I tried something else. Marching myself up a mountain, perhaps this would help move things through. I marched up the trail, still feeling my symptoms. Thought about my letter to myself, the fight I had thrown the towel in on, my mystery illness, and remembered something I have written so many times, in so many journals. That no matter what the circumstance , this choosing of me, getting out, breathing deep, taking the time. This always makes things clearer. This is a big part of how I fight for me. I seem to forget it as often as I write it, luckily I also rediscover it time and time again. The fight I gave up on was not working because I had forgotten to include myself in the equation. A fight “for” anything can not succeed unless the heart of the fighter is cherished. Walking up the mountain today was a recommitment to my fighter spirit, and a reminder that my heart is my strength, and worth fighting for! I am interested to see how my commitment moves this mystery illness.
Thank you to everyone who is commenting on the blog, it is adding a whole new dimension to the project and is inspiring me in my writing. I read a comment by Rob-a-tron once I had come down from the mountain. In wondrous synchronicity he mentions “doing ones best”. Which is one of the
four agreements as laid out by Don Miguel Ruiz . The four agreement;
- Do your best
- Be impeccable with your word
- Don’t make assumptions
- Don’t take anything personally
When I went up the mountain today I took a journal on the chance I would meet a stranger. I met a man whose name I never got. A man who had a quote from the constitution tattooed on his arm. It was a beautiful quote which I wrote on the first page of
12 days journal #32. Chris and I chatted with he and his hiking partner, a womyn I had danced with before. Just before heading down I asked them if they would take the journal, they gave me an enthusiastic “yes”. I had to come up with a question for the journal on the fly, as I had not decided on anything yet. I was thinking about his tattoo, something obviously very important to have had it tattooed on his forearm. I thought about what words could be used to sum up what I believe, what my mantra was. I quickly scribbled
“What is your mantra?” in the front cover. Buried deep in the journal I wrote the 4 agreements and one other thing that I am going to keep for myself.
