Self love.
I tried to explain to her that upping the self love quota wasn’t really necessary for me.
Apparently though, that wasn’t the kind of self love she was talking about.
No – she was referring to me taking an active role in my own healing.
Which I have to be honest – I thought I was doing.
I pour myself into researching this disease, I seek out the best health care practitioners I can find, I keep up with acupuncture and now myofascial release, I pop supplements and suck down tinctures, I watch my diet, I exercise, and I juggle a crap load of appointments on any given day of the week. Even though sometimes it’s overwhelming. Even though more often than not, it’s expensive. Even though there are days when I just wish more than anything I could be like my friends who seem to be able to eat like crap and drink like fish while still popping out babies with ease and going through life with nary an ill health effect to be spoken of.
Seriously – what is with these bitches?
(And by bitches, I mean of course the amazing women who are there for me in every way I could possibly imagine, and more ways than I could ever ask for. The term bitches here is used with all the love in my heart, and just the teensiest bit of jealousy added in for good measure).
When you break it down, it’s hard for me to imagine how much more active a role I could possibly be playing in my quest towards a healthy life though.
As far as self love is concerned, I kind of think I’m doing a pretty good job.
On all fronts.
But the healer thinks I could be doing more.
Namely, she thinks I could be taking more personal control and accountability.
According to her, it’s wonderful that I take time out every week to see her and Teeny (both in an effort to deal with pain and naturally coax my body into behaving as it should – sans drugs). It’s fantastic that I keep up with Dr. Naturopath as regularly as I do, and that I continue to follow her nutritional and supplemental guidance with regularity. It’s incredible that I have found myself a surgeon to clear out the mess of endometriosis that remained after my 2 IVF cycles (a surgeon who now not only listens to me with compassion and offers advice in line with the more natural treatment plan he knows I wish to pursue, but who also isn’t quick to cut without a clear need.)
But it’s not enough.
I need to be a part of the team.
And according to the healer, simply following the schedule and doing as I’m told does not make me part of the team.
Apparently – I need to make more room for self love.
For rituals and routines and thoughts focused on kicking this disease out of my body once and for all.
It turns out that popping the supplements, and drinking the tinctures, and watching my diet isn’t enough. Not in terms of giving me some power on this healing journey.
And as far as the healer is concerned – I need to have that power.
Because otherwise, I will just continue to end up right back where I started.
The problem is, her idea of self love isn’t exactly in line with mine. She wants me visualizing. And meditating. Picturing a violet light rushing through my body. Taking time to shut out the world and focus explicitly on healing. Ohhhming, to increase the vibrations within my body. Because disease cannot live in a body with a certain vibratory number.
Or something like that.
She wants me doing this all daily.
And the truth is – it just really is not my thing. I am open minded and do believe there could be something to all of this, but… I am also the kind of person who thrives off of the tangible. The pills I can pop (be they medicinal or supplemental) that I know have a set purpose. The exercise I can commit to that I know releases endorphins which help my body to cope with pain. The dietary restrictions I can embrace because they make sense when breaking down how foods effect hormones.
I count on what I can see, touch, and understand.
It's one of the reasons, perhaps, why I always struggled with relying upon prayer for healing as well. It just never felt nearly tangible enough. As close as I hold my faith, prayer just never felt like something that was going to make a difference in terms of this disease.
So sitting on the floor and closing my eyes while visualizing a violet light penetrating through my body and eradicating it of disease?
Well… let’s just say there isn’t really anything tangible about that at all.
And even more, if we’re being honest – I have the attention span of a toddler. There is a reason why, even as I am writing this now, I am also engaging in a text conversation with the friend I have dinner plans with tonight, and watching A Gifted Man on my DVR.
I function best with a life that is full. Busy. Chaotic. Complemented always by a soundtrack of music, or television, or conversation. And surrounded by every possible distraction you can imagine.
That is how I thrive.
The idea of shutting myself out to the world on a nightly basis in order to visualize my own healing?
Not empowering, but rather – unproductive.
And I am a girl who thrives upon productivity.
Still… I am in awe of the healer. Of her ability to lay her hands upon me at the beginning of each of our sessions and tell me where I am hurting - to even further then eradicate that hurt. Or her awareness of the world around her. Her healing touch. Her free spirit. Her insight into me, my body, nature and this disease that continues to blow me away. Week after week.
We’ve been making a lot of progress. Progress that I’m going to talk about here soon (I swear!) – I just want to wait until after the next visit from Jack first.
Because right now, I have to be honest – even I am in disbelief over some of the improvements I’ve seen. And I don’t want to go boasting about how much better I’m feeling only have to dislodge my foot from my mouth when the real test arrives in just a few days.
But right now, while I wait, it looks like I need to work on the self love.
I just have to wonder though.... if it is this uncomfortable:
Does it even really count?
