Death’s Door.




I’m not a wuss when it comes to pain. I can stay calm & talk myself out of migraines from time to time. I’m the Mom who endures hours upon hours of labor & pushes babies out of my person naturally, without being medicated.  I’m a reasonably healthy human being. As a matter of fact, I honestly can’t remember the last time I had a prescription filled for any reason. I seldom acquire even a sniffle! Having said that, I feel like death is knocking on my door at the present moment. I’m not sure whether to cry or go to the doctor or just drink an entire bottle of Robitussin & try to sleep it off for the next week. I’ve not been this sick since I was a child. Yes, I’ve overextended myself in recent months. I’ve not listened to my body, I’ve pushed through exhaustion & skipped my yoga practice altogether. I’ve not been meditating & for the past two weeks I’ve eaten more sugar & processed foods than I probably have in the past two years combined. I remember going to a yoga conference once & the teacher asked us if we ever find bruises on our body & wonder how they got there. Her point was this.. “If you have a physical injury on your person that is black & blue, yet you have no clue how it got there or when you did it or what caused it, then you are living way too deeply in your headspace & need to work on getting connected with your physical self.” This is my problem. I’ve been so wrapped up emotionally in worrying about & caring for the kids during this transition, & I’ve been so sidetracked with getting all of the I’s dotted & T’s crossed with this real estate transaction, I’ve been consumed with packing & unpacking & painting & running here & there, getting kids to practices an hour away & registered at their new schools & trying to tackle the organizational aspects of our present living situation, that I have just neglected my own personal well being. It’s as simple as that. I’m down & out. I literally have blisters covering my throat & mouth, the exhaustion I feel barely allows me to pull myself out of bed long enough to use the royal throne (aka: toilet).  I have absolutely no appetite what so ever & my fever has me physically shaking so badly that my muscles are so sore I can barely walk. I’m so grateful to be sick. I know that sounds insane. I AM THANKFUL for this experience. Each day I wake up & do my thing. I go where I want, I focus on what we need as a family, and I do my grocery shopping or laundry or play on the floor with my 2-year-old. I take walks & gas up my car, I clean out my fridge & I cook dinner. I do all of these things without really acknowledging that fact I am blessed with the CAPABILITY of doing them. Why? Because I’ve never NOT been able to do these things. They are simple, everyday tasks that I’ve taken for granted. I will not take them for granted anymore. When I find myself bitching because the mountain of laundry never ends, I’m going to smile & bend over & put in another load… Because I’m capable & well & grateful for the opportunity to be alive with dirty laundry. I know it seems silly. I realize I’m making a “big fuss” about a “little thing” but I cannot imagine what it must feel like to want to brush your teeth or take a walk with your family & just not have the physical strength to do such simple tasks on a regular basis. I am blessed with a healthy, capable body. It’s not perfect, but it serves me well. After I get through this funk, I’m going to work hard at appreciating my daily life in a different, more attentive way. I will kiss prayers daily for those who desire wellness, but are suffering instead. This is a wake up call.

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