I work hard to be someone who is known to be positive, motivated, and inspiring. I know that in my true core self that I am all of these things and that I am love and divine and filled with sacred energy. But I'm going to be honest, I've felt like shit for awhile and it has been scary.
Last week I was diagnosed with an auto immune disorder and a genetic mutation, both of which have symptoms of fatigue, sluggishness, difficulty losing weight, depression...the list goes on. My body is attacking itself and spinning in a toxic state despite all of my great efforts. And it is not my fault.
I can see myself, in a not too distant future, feeling grateful for having these diagnoses and solid treatment plans; explanations for why I feel like I am constantly failing myself, swimming upstream in a river that has had a recent spring melt. But I am not quite to the gratitude part yet. Instead right now I am grieving. I still have thick and heavy limbs and the medications are on board but I'm in the middle of the discomfort of detoxing and not yet to the zippy new energy that the doctor has promised will come. I am in denial that anything will ever actually feel any different. I am angry that my diet has to change. I am weeping regularly about how cruel I have been to myself for so long, for all the things that I have decided I don't do "right" or "well enough."
It is embarrassing to admit that inside this big promoter of self love, I have struggled so hard to do this for me. I know we all struggle with Mean Mind. But in the last couple years I have let mine get out of control. Now I am envisioning my Mean Mind in the form an ugly little gremlin and I am shoving it right down the garbage disposal. A bit violent of a vision maybe but it feels like great force is needed right now to make this serious mental adjustment.
So, with the tiny sprouts of green emerging from the solid dead-looking ground, I am breathing into tiny sprouts of hope as well. I am peering out of the grey and seeing a beautiful glow of light ahead. Today I am no longer stuck in the mud of the land behind me. I may be standing awkwardly on this bridge that leads to some foreign land ahead but I am at least in transition. And I know how to believe in transition and transformation. I have never been afraid of this kind of hard work. I'd so rather be chopping the wood than standing clueless and helpless, blind to the fact that the wood needs to be chopped. Chopping wood is productive and meditative. And I believe that eventually I won't have to chop wood so often or with such effort. I'm unclear on how it feels to be on the other side of this bridge but for now just being right here feels like enough. I can believe in this. That something is wrong with my body, that there are ways to help care for it, that change is occurring.
In what feels like perfect alignment (and the comedic efforts of divine orchestration) I am in the midst of launching a REVEAL party in Olympia at The Beauty Temple. I am reaching out to women I do not know, encouraging them to celebrate their bodies, revel in their sexy, to join me in a weekend of boudoir. I have in this process met a new friend, the owner of The Beauty Temple, and am finding that despite all of my current health struggles, I feel thrilled at the opportunity to do this project with her. I feel energized each time we have an exchange, discuss a detail or change a plan. It would be easy and justifiable to climb into my cozy bed and not come out except to achieve the basic necessities. Instead I find myself researching, creating and feeling inspired in the few restful moments I have in my mom-ing days. I find myself going on walks almost every day with beautiful women friends. I find myself tapping into a resource that I am only just beginning to recognize. If I had to give it a name today, I would call it HOPE.
This body of mine, with all of it's struggle and imperfections, is still my only vessel and in it I get to be me. In this body I get to find a new way of talking to myself. In this body I get to redefine self love. In this body I get to reach out to other women who also live inside imperfect vessels and help them see how beautiful they are too.
This is turning out to be a revealing kind of spring...