The body intelligence is the name of this bit of writing; best that could be for the moment, this day and time. Anyway . . .
The flu! The wretched thing! Seems a few years now since even a head cold entered my bodily private domain. Yet, it gives time for writing, contemplating and if my energy holds up later maybe even painting (pastel artwork). Sometimes, however, it can be good to practice death. No, this isn’t me being overly dramatic—just listen a moment. You can’t turn from it even though you would rather not be anywhere in its shadows, yet inevitably the body will shut down sense organs one after another. NO wait, don’t stop reading. Because oh, but what a gift close encounters, even if they are not our very own (family, friend or foe who may be sick or in a phase of transition—but no, let’s say the really scary word, death!) . . . like I was saying, any encounter with the endpoint from any distance offers us a gift if we keep our eyes open! What gift? Embracing the opposite of course – Life! A deeper and more joyful appreciation of good health and the ability to do something, anything, which comes from our ‘creative-will’ our personal expression of ‘life’ – even if that is only a pleasant conversation with another. Any expression of being alive on any level that is possible can potentially become a truly joyous event.
The local hospital has accepted me as a volunteer and promoted me to be the top person for patient relations. The job is not as impressive as the title may sound. Actually, it only involves offering a smile, a hello and passing out a card from the auxiliary and offering magazines, newspapers, crossword puzzles and the like.
Yesterday here at home, life played out with chills and fever next to a pile of Kleenex feeling as if my throat was on fire was another glimpse, another close encounter – another good practice for the last page in the last chapter of this life as I know it to be now. And my thoughts wandered to the hospital patients as it does now writing this.
And, of course, as one could expect, with fever back to normal today, am gifted with a deeper appreciation of life and the ability to affect the lives of others and my own in a positive way. To create, to play, to appreciate, to breathe life into this body deeply and with more gratitude for the vehicle that enables my stay here upon the good earth.
People who know me or follow my posts are familiar with the mention of the history of losing consciousness; yep, I’m one of those “fainters”. Physical or emotional overwhelm and out I go! I realize how this is like a mini-death of sorts and one of the last times (in the hospital ER with an acute bladder infection), there was this awesomely peaceful kind of limbo state, vast and not-empty but full somehow. No words can describe it. Voices were calling me back into this world and I did not wish to return. On another occasion, when I lost consciousness due to a gall bladder issue, a “code” was called because I could not be revived after losing consciousness. That time, however, I didn’t recall the blissful openness and fullness as the time before. My point here? Forgive this writer still under the influence of Nyquil cold and flu medicine. Well, I guess, my purpose in writing this has to do with me being grateful for these moments in which the body and I get to practice our final act. Meanwhile, there is a turning toward life with eyes of gratitude.
One final thing. It’s floating around in this woozy head and I’d like to try to grab at it the next time if floats by. Here we go. It has to do with the shutting down part. How to say it? Like yesterday, the focus was deeply inward – the body seemed very busy focusing on itself – dealing with the invader flu. I guess in the death process (oh, this is how the Tibetans tell it and in the Book of The Living and The Dead), how the various bodily senses begin to shut down. The body, I’d assume, is very preoccupied doing this – and there’s not much energy for anything in the external world.
Body intelligence is pretty amazing. Think about it. The body knows how to keep its balance, digest food, breathe – oh, so many things – without your or me consciously telling it to! A good thing too, I’d say! The body knows how to get a spoonful of food into the mouth straight away without us having to give directions—a little to the left, no down a little—in other words, the food doesn’t go into our eye or nose; the body knows what to do without our conscious mind directing. Recovering from illness or shutting down to go into transition, it’s the same way. The body and soul know what to do.
No big summary ending. There’s only me picturing the self in the act of sorting through my pastel colors and placing them in trays according to color and hue. So off I go with my box of Kleenex and a project to do, celebrating life all the way through!
Revisiting that old black magic. Vent. Back to the future! The now is fill with nausea–what? Yeah. Predecessor stiff neck and migraine from (not heaven). Well, what do you want? Got a neighbor again and we share germs through the interconnected ventilation system but in all fairness germ sharing occurs at Wal Mart and the woman’s locker room at the Y too. So, oh you know that post from last week that about guitar man and his singing? Well, the dude just raised the sound like by like double the 1, 000 decibels. Ever see Phoebe from that old TV series, “Friends”-? Remember how she couldn’t carry a tune? Well, meet her song sibling: my downstairs neighbor! Toss in 2 days of solid cold non-stop rain, mixed with headache/nausea laced with the the singer of “smelly cat”‘s sound soul brother and, it was the weekend from not heaven!
Again, blogging is healing. And now, back to LIFE nausea or not! And yeah, I see myself knocking on his door talking about all this soon! My Libra says NO, PLEASE DON’T MAKE ME DO THAT and my Aries says… well, never mind. Maybe after all the Full Moon energy has weakened a bit more. I want to be in the pool swimming; normally that’s where I’d be right now.
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