healing

Gifts Found in the Dark

emilydownward

BePatient_Dawn-RumiYesterday marked Winter Solstice, the darkest day of the year, the day with the shortest amount of daylight. Over the last few months, as the days have been getting shorter and darker, I have been confronting some darkness of my own, in the form of some challenging health issues and the accompanying thought storm that enveloped it.

My first reaction to the extreme fatigue I was experiencing was denial. Denial is a powerful coping mechanism…for a while. It just isn’t sustainable for me. Pretending that I was okay and pushing myself to do, Do, DO wasn’t working: I was getting worse. I first had to admit to myself that something was wrong, that it wasn’t just me being lazy or lacking self-discipline. Stopping the shaming and blaming that was happening in my own head was the first step towards acceptance.

And a word about acceptance…When I speak about acceptance, or surrender, I am referring to the idea of dropping the resistance to What Is. It does not mean giving up things ever being different; it is just giving up the struggle against the reality of what is occurring. For me, it is about acknowledging the truth. It’s important to me to be specific here because I have many friends and colleagues who subscribe to new thought concepts and tend to deny anything negative that is happening, choosing to rather focus on only positive. That doesn’t work for me. I believe in being honest with myself about the current state of things and working through the emotions that come up. In this way, I can clear the feelings and shift my energy towards creating something new.

The second step for me was admitting to others that I wasn’t doing well. I needed help and understanding that I wasn’t up to my usual amount of Doing. This was difficult for me, to admit to people I love and respect, and whose opinion I value, that I needed help, that I wasn’t doing well, that [gasp!] I wasn’t perfect. (I know I’m not perfect. I admit I’m far from it. But there’s a part of me that still strives to appear pretty well-put-together.) So I cut back on work and social activities, and for a time, I cut out everything that wasn’t absolutely necessary. In a way, this was very freeing, to have very clear priorities. I knew my health was paramount and that everything else was less important. Saying No became easier, and I also found I didn’t have the energy to pretend, or to hold on to anger or resentments. That was a gift from this challenge: recognizing the ease of being truthful about what is in my highest good.

My sensitivities have increased during this time, too. I already considered myself highly sensitive, (you can read more about highly sensitive people and Elaine Aron’s work here), and now it seems that my sensitivity has been raised even more. I’ve become acutely aware of which people, activities and foods bolster my energy, as well as those who drain it. It has become imperative to drastically reduce or eliminate those things and people that drain me. Self-care, which has at times felt overly indulgent and selfish to me, has become a necessity for my healing. So I found another gift, as I dropped the stories of being overly indulgent or lazy and respected my body’s needs for good nutrition, rest and silence.

Finally, I had to trust myself, as I was faced with disbelief and some disinterest from doctors who I hoped would help me. I became my own advocate and did a lot of research and reading, as well as talking more about what was happening with me and hearing from some caring friends who have had similar experiences. It was only through sharing what was going on with me that I got the information that pointed me in the right direction, as well as a recommendation to a physician who can help me heal. She is trained in Eastern and Western medicine, as well as being very intuitive and spiritual in her approach. She shared with me that she can see I’m on a spiritual path of surrender. I agree – I have found, especially in the past couple years, that I must surrender my ego, my small self’s desires, and my ideas of what “should be,” and trust in a higher plan. And then she shared that surrender happens in layers: first, on the spiritual level; second, on the emotional and mental level; and finally, on the physical level. She explained that my body is having challenges keeping up with the rate of surrender I am going through. I love the concept of this, and it has given me understanding, compassion for my body, and hope.

I share my personal story as an example of what a journey into the darkness of the time leading up to the Solstice might look like. I believe that by dropping the resistance to the dark, we can gain knowledge, insights and gifts from the process of going within. And I look forward to the light’s return, as the days begin to get longer, as a metaphor for the light returning on my own path.

May the light shine on your path and bring you hope and comfort. May you trust that you are exactly where you are meant to be, and that all is well.

How Losing the Ability to Walk Taught Me a Valuable Lesson

emilydownward

One of the significant losses for me last year was the loss of my physical abilities. I went from being a proud 7-time triathlete to someone who had to reserve a wheelchair in the airport because I couldn’t walk the distance from the check-in to the gate without excruciating pain.

At the beginning, it was mostly an annoyance. A couple months after my last triathlon, I noticed pain in my right hip when I ran. Training for triathlons taught me I could do more than I thought I could do, and I had learned how to push myself past the whining voice in my head that said it was too difficult. So I pushed on.

The pain increased, and I became frustrated with my body. I was in a relationship with a man who was a former personal trainer, and he encouraged me to push through it. Given his experience and also the fact that I wanted to impress him, I pushed on.

The pain got worse, and I had to completely stop running. Thinking it was a temporary setback, I made myself walk every day and began doing yoga 4-5 times a week to increase my flexibility and strength. Still, the pain worsened and my mobility declined.

I heard a motivational speaker recently, who in recounting her personal story of transformational weight loss, said, “The one thing you have control over is your body.” I hope she never experiences how very untrue that statement is, because it was incredibly difficult to surrender for me.

But when your body stops walking, you have to start listening.

First, I had to surrender to the idea that this was truly happening. I had so much resistance to the idea that I couldn’t do what I’d been doing. Eventually, it was obvious. I couldn’t walk without assistance, like a cane or crutches. I consulted a variety of specialists, and learned that a combination of scoliosis, the way my muscles learned to compensate, and repetitive training for triathlons had created the perfect storm for my hip.

Second, I had to learn to truly listen to and trust my body. I have always been more reliant on my mind than anything else. I had learned how to push myself. Now, I had to learn to let my body set the speed. Some days, I could walk a mile. Some days, I could barely walk around the block. Other days, I needed to rest. There was no pattern to it – each day was different. But my body no longer responded to force – it would simply shut down. As I slowly began to get infinitesimally better, I didn’t want to go back to being completed crippled, so I listened.

Surrender. Listen. Trust. And shift your thoughts.I also had to trust my body with what helped, and what didn’t. Frequently, even what the doctors or therapists were telling me wasn’t working for me. I learned to trust what I was feeling more, to distinguish between different kinds of pain – like the good kind of pain in a stretch or in a muscle you are building versus the you-overdid-it and now there’s inflammation. Lots of trial and error, but I’m learning and getting better at it.

Finally, I had to change my thoughts and ideas about myself. I had to create a new normal. I don’t think I’ll do another triathlon again, and I had to grieve that. I had to be okay with what my good-enough is. Not that I’m giving up on improving – not at all! But I accept and honor the limitations I have on any given day.

If you’re facing a big transition like this, you may also find these steps work for you:

  1. Surrender to what’s happening. Byron Katie says, “When you fight with reality, you’re going to lose 100% of the time.” Acknowledge that this is what’s happening right now. When you come to a place of acceptance, then you can begin to find your way out.
  2. Listen and trust your body. This is true not just in physical challenges but also in times of grief. Some days are up and others are down. Follow your inner rhythms.
  3. Shift your thinking to accommodate your new reality. Let go of the idea of who you thought you were, and dig deeper to the inner knowing of who you are – that part of you that never changes, that is worthy and good enough without titles or accomplishments.

Today, I can hike three miles on a good day. I’ve even had days where I have no pain at all, and it feels amazing. I continue to accept, listen and be flexible in my thinking, and in addition to the ability to walk, I also have a lot more peace.

Holding On, Letting Go

emilydownward

For the past six months, I’ve been on a journey, emotionally, spiritually and physically. The ending of my relationship thrust me into the chaos of grief and being uprooted without a home base, and it also sent me into an intense healing period and connecting to myself at an even deeper level. I’ve become more in tune with my spiritual center, and less interested in superficiality. I’ve had to let go of many attachments, to people and things, and I’ve found I can get by on much less stuff than I thought.

When I packed a couple suitcases in September, I had no idea it would be six months before I discovered and decided where I wanted to live, found a place, and recollected my things from storage. I guess I could have sped up the process – with my work being virtual, I can live and work from anywhere with good internet and phone service – but I wanted to allow myself time to grieve and not make a hasty decision, to not make a quick decision out of fear and uncertainty but to allow the time to regain my peace and choose wisely.

It hasn’t been easy. Even with all the coaching tools and knowledge, it’s still difficult to let go sometimes. I cling to old ideas of who I thought I was, how I thought my dreams would look, and my heart still wants some of those dreams. I’ve had to grieve the loss and tease out the parts of my dreams that I can hold on to, and those I have to surrender. I still get to keep the essence of the dream, but I know it won’t look like I thought it would. I’m choosing to believe it will look even better than I thought, even though that is currently an exercise in faith.

Trying to hold on is painful – it’s impossible to succeed and it’s painful. The pain for me manifests physically, and I’ve been dealing with some extreme physical pains lately – an indication that the letting go is a process, and I’m still working on allowing it.

It all melts away...all that doesn't serve.I listened to a guided meditation recently that included this phrase: “It all melts away…all that doesn’t serve.” I liked it – I liked it enough to open my eyes and write it down before resuming the meditation! It makes me feel better about letting go, realizing that those things (people, ideas, or objects) no longer serve me. And it reminds me to focus instead on what DOES serve me. I’ve also found this refocusing helpful when dealing with so much uncertainty – focusing instead on what I am certain about, even if sometimes that’s not much! For example, I can get pretty wound up about being technically homeless, or I can give thanks for the friends and family who have graciously invited me into their homes and to their tables. I can recognize that I have a roof over my head, somewhere to sleep, food in my belly. And, I can remember that having always moved around and travelled (being, as my Auntie Norma calls me, a gypsy at heart), I am always at home in my body, wherever on the earth that happens to be. Focusing on the certainties helps me relax, even if just a bit, and that enables access to the creative parts of my brain, allowing me to come up with solutions and ideas.

Many people I know, friends and clients and colleagues, are also dealing with incredible changes and losses. If you are experiencing massive changes and letting go, I encourage you to focus inwardly, find your inner peace – the part of you that is always okay, always perfect. Some may call this the soul or the spirit or your essential self. Connect with that part as often as you can and allow yourself time and space to grieve, feeling your emotions and allowing them to wash through you. Find the essence of your dreams, those pieces you can keep, and let go of the rest. In letting go of those things you try to grasp in your hands, you open your hands to receive something new.