A few months of doctors of varying kinds. Poking and prodding.
Opinions. Non-diagnosis’. I want to have conversations/talk as equals.
I have high hopes. Expectations. They are not fulfilled.
Let down, disappointed. I find myself enacting in a behavior I have judged
chasing the diagnosis.
The cure. The answer. The why. How do you live in pain and not let it
ruin your day? Your mood. The way you treat others. Your loved ones.
My loved ones. everyone.
I am not my pain. Hard to do when you’re walking bent over.
And yet. Healing occurs because everything changes.
Life is dynamic and even on occasion seemingly effervescent and joy filled.
The hummingbird showers through the spray while grass is being watered in early morning light.
Acupuncture loosens what has been bound. Do you remember this?
And that? I asked for a clearer understanding of embodiment and I’m getting it.
Shown it. Feel it.
Do you know the Hindu word for these psychological knots that bind?
Sanskrit? Patanjali’s yoga sutras/somewhere in there.
I’ve been trying to get back to a daily yoga practice and every time I set out, only after a few days the body says, no.
NO!!! A burning ball of fire in the sacrum, splaying out/up/down/east and west from the center.
The kundalini rises.
It’s time and I wasn’t asked. No permission.
Oh yes you were Mary. You just forgot.
Reform the form. The body reimagined. Re-informed.
New information coming to light.
Listening is the true healer.
Sheila Chandra is haunting.
Ever so lonely.
There is no such thing.