No Resisting Uncertainty (written 3/7/07)

Hi you guys. It's a bumpy road for old Jen these days, but here's what's surfacing: Re-alignment, Letting it Happen, Pain, and Faith. Climb aboard - everything is going to be all right!

Last year, around Christmas, I developed a PAIN . The pain was located in my upper stomach area(on one side) and I believed it to be a rib that had popped out of place (I've had this before). Usually, I am able to work through this pain and it goes away, but this time, it was persisting. With this sort of pain, I can feel it in the front and in the back and it can be quite uncomfortable. As time went by and it wasn't going away and even seemed to be worsening, I grew more concerned.

At this time, Sawyer was having an extremely difficult time at school. He is enrolled in public school in a special education Inclusion Program which offers extra support and help throughout his school day spent in a regular classroom with "typically developing" children. So, a special ed teacher or assistant would come by and see if he needed help with work or behavioral issues . But at this time, the staff found that they had to be with him all the time, instead of just once in a while. He was acting out and receiving up to five time-outs a day. He was becoming more and more difficult to reach. I was stressed out of my mind because I knew that they might have to boot him out of this program because they were unable to address his needs. And so, my Pain evolved.

Finally, I decided to go to a chiropractor, Dr. Gita Vasudeva, to see if she might help by popping the rib back into place. When I arrived she was more interested in how screwed up my neck was, how, apparently, I wear my shoulders like earrings, and how my head is on crooked. She worked diligently to fix me while I hoped and prayed she could. But somewhere, deep down, I knew, the solution was not going to come from her.
Chiropractors have a small, gentle tool they can use called an attenuator; they also have the crack and pop hands-on system we're all familiar with. I've always chosen the tool, but this time, she was encouraging me to allow the cracking, twisting version. I acquiesced and was okay the first time or two, but soon, I could feel something growing in me that was very much like RESISTANCE. I didn't want her to force me back into place, force me back the way I should be - even if I was going to feel better. Apparently, I wanted to do it myself. It seemed irrational and just plain dumb, but I knew this was the undercurrent of my experience with her, so I stopped going. That night, I took Dr. Gita's earlier advice and forced myself to breath deeply and fully into and through that area; that was the first time in weeks I felt any real kind of relief and the healing progressed from there.

Another clue:
Years ago, Bill, Sawyer, Max, and I were at the park and I needed to go back home (the park is five minutes from our house). Bill was pushing Sawyer on the little kid swing and I was walking away waving goodbye to him as I went, but the thing is, I just kept looking at Sawyer and waving, looking and waving, looking and waving, until I'd unintentionally walked myself right into a bleacher and stabbed myself in the solar plexis . Gasping for air, I looked over to see if Bill or anyone was noticing, but they were not. It hurt and it took a few minutes to regroup, but afterwards, I knew why it had happened. It was hard for me to Let Go of Sawyer, emotionally, and I had just acted it out. And I'd also acted out the repercussions of not being able to let go - one loses one's breath, ease, and, in the end, one hurts oneself.

Last clue:
Over seven years ago, we went on a family vacation to Cannon Beach in Oregon. Sawyer was only about a year and a half ; Max had just turned five. I had recently started writing my children's book and I was going to be going to a Writer's Conference. The months before I'd found myself growing increasingly stressed over the drawings for the story, and my eyes had begun to get very dry, and then my right eye started hurting terribly, and then once that resolved I got diarrhea, for a long time. It was still going on when we went on vacation and I'd just realized I'd dropped some weight, so I was feeling very skinny, very off, very wrong and ugly. And then, my hair started falling out excessively - not clumps - but lots of extra hair. I went to the doctor but the tests provided no guidance. A sense of panic grew and I started having that nightmare mentality momentum in which I dread the days and just can't seem to feel good. My days became tortuous and every moment was painful. I didn't know what I was fearing; I didn't know what was wrong; I just knew I was spinning out. Bill was exhausted listening to me. Every moment was an exercise in fear and self-consciousness; I didn't want to be seen and I didn't want to see. Everything hurt.

My friend Gail, who lives in Oregon with her daughter, came to visit us at the beach. I told her what was going on and she said, "Let it happen." And with those words, I began paddling back to shore. Each moment, I would repeat them to myself: "Let it happen" - every time I was fearing the next moment: "Let it happen". For the first time in my life, I was consciously practicing letting it go - no longer fighting for my survival or safety, but striving instead to establish FAITH.

Here's what I'm thinking:
My emotional pain over not being in a place of enough Allowing and Trusting in regards to Sawyer was so strong that it became physical. I had clamped down on my experience to the point of pinching myself off from feeling good as my mind diligently strove to try to gain control over things I simply could not control. And the same goes for my mental/emotional/physical response to striving to send my work out in the world; I became so frightened of what might happen next for me, of my vulnerability "out there", that again, my mind worked overtime striving to resist the uncertainty. But there is no resisting uncertainty. One must, instead, work to create what one wants and let the rest go.

This is a BIG one for me. Lots to learn.
Hope you're all learning lots.
All is Well.
Much Love,
Jen