Okay. So, yesterday, something scribbled out my light--a black marker mars my sight. How am I supposed to see my way through this murky world? I guess I’ve got a new companion, this scribble on my view. I’m not ready to welcome it in.
Life can throw a curveball so fast and hard, it takes time to assimilate. I didn’t ask for this, nor did my daughter ask for her liver disease, nor did anyone walking around with a handicap. Life is hard and then the curveball hits right in the stomach and we assimilate.
I catapulted into doctors probing and front desks planning and waiting rooms holding backward chairs and masked stares. Walking through hospital doors are triggering. It would have been helpful to hear a warning bell to steady myself against my hidden triggers.
All is well, I’m told. No detached retina but they don’t know why my light has been scribbled upon. Go home and assimilate.
I’m thinking of the blessings I have in life, like the fact I still have vision in both eyes. And the love around me. And the community I’m in. and I don’t struggle to thrive any more. And my connection to higher dimensions. Yes, I am blessed.
So, it’s important for me to let this new “friend” accompany me on my journey and sit with me on my ride. This scribble is a reminder of my blessings and my lessons, keeping a perspective behind my scribble and in front of it too.
And the triggers that visit unannounced, I am reminded they are not monsters lurking to pounce but wounds deep set in my journey. Memories of trauma that hold other lessons I’m still sorting out and gleaning their meaning.
Bottom line is I am okay with my ranting. I am okay with my fears. I am okay with my triggers. I am okay with my scribble. Being authentic means accepting myself where I am. Being authentic means no more hiding my insides from my outsides. Being authentic means loving myself wherever I am. Truth abides in my landscape. Dignity is my skyline and I adapt as I know how and carry on.
“When everything else shifts and seems to threaten our stability, our heart, our still small center, holds true.” - Ancelin Wolfe
Thank you so much for sharing. I know when something has changed in my body, I’ve gotten into tremendous fear. I’ve learned from you to not project all this into the future, not wish things were back the way they were in the past. To stay in the present. Things can change and all will be well. I’ve learned that my body adapts. I had a scary thing happen to my eye and the doctors did what they could, and my eyes adapted. Things happen. We don’t want them but we get to love them as they come into our lives. I will keep breathing today.
I will adapt. I adapted to the floaters that came after my cataract surgery. I will adapt. And my brain will learn to look around it and my headaches will go away. I will adapt.
I’m reminded of an old Chinese fable. A man goes to a sage and says “I’m tired of my little place where I live. There’s not enough room. Tell me what to do.” The sage tells him to invite his cousins in. So the man does and he’s not happy about it. He goes back to the sage and says, “It’s not working. What should I do?” The sage tells him to invite his neighbors in. The man complies and is more upset. He goes back to the sage who tells him to invite more people in. The man is more upset and goes to the sage who tells him invite more people. At his wits end, he goes back to the sage and says “I cannot deal with this anymore. What should I do?” The sage tells him to tell everyone to leave. The man goes home and kicks everyone out. And he sits down in his house and realizes he has so much room and is grateful.
It brings up fear for me again, because we all fear what we don’t know and we all fear how we are going to adapt. Just know that you will with your strength that you’ve had all along. So it goes. You can spend time crying about it and that’s okay too.
I’m sending you positive thoughts. My neighbors have a new puppy and the puppy got loose and was playing keep away. It reminds me of this. When we aren’t accepting, we are running away from things. I’ve had some issues with breathing for the last few months. The treatment was worse. I saw a naturopath and am working with her. Long term, I may have to accept some limitations and that’s hard. But instead of looking for the causes, I went to an acceptance state to pull myself up by my bootstraps and get on with it. That didn’t work. It’s like accepting where you are at the time which is difficult. I think it’s the only way to move forward by accepting and moving forward.
And not being hard on myself. It reminds me of my father saying, “Just shut up and deal with it.” That doesn’t work for me. I have to do it gently and like you said, with acceptance. Treat it like another friend. It’s another friend in my circle. I like the image of the puppy running away.
I think of people with blindness issues. And I’m grateful I can see. I just have to accept seeing with crap in front of me, and to rel