As so often happens on this Liz path, I "spring ahead" and then all-too-soon "fall back". (From what I understand, this is pretty common for people on any kind of intensive spiritual journey.) Late last week, I was pretty excited about having inched up the creative scale by including a photograph in this blog, and I was looking forward to one or two upcoming events that would be spiritually reinvigorating.
Within hours, I was thrust into a medical situation which has drained all my time and energy. Yes, it is something affecting me, and yes, it is something relatively easily dealt with. But when post-duality me has to deal with our health care system, it's an enormous challenge. I'll go so far as to say it is traumatizing. It is nearly impossible for me to get into a place of any kind of fighting, even "fighting illness", a concept that even today is core to our modern notion of healing. My brain and soul are straining to operate in an all-Love, new paradigm way, but my old paradigm body and the system I have almost no choice but to turn to, tend to operate the opposite (although my body is doing an extraordinary job of learning!) On a few occasions these last few years, I have just had to do my best to explain to my body that we needed to take such-and-such a step, to bear with me. I asked my system to do its best to zig zag through old and new paradigm thinking to bring healing as quickly as possible.
One thing I cannot help but do, especially in these times, is think in metaphor. As a woman, I watch Gaia struggling for sovereignty, and to excrete toxins, and I see that same process happening within me. A few times these last few days, I simply sat crosslegged and tried to envision total, immediate and complete healing. I'm not evolved enough yet to heal myself that quickly, but do I believe it is theoretically possible? Yes. And if at this crucial moment in time, I needed to experience some pain in order to accompany other pain-filled people on their paths forward, I warmly accept that role.
It's not going to be possible to attend at least one upcoming event that I had thought would be catalytic. Yes, I am disappointed. But I've been on this journey long enough to know that it's possible I've moved too quickly and no longer need that step. Perhaps another more appropriate step is unfolding in its place, in the silence and enforced stillness. This week became more of a Void than I anticipated, yet after a rocky few days, I welcome the emptiness and will listen as intently as I can to its messages. Crow came to me in an oracle card, and when I finally got out for a walk this morning, about half-a-dozen of them flew out of the trees and cawed a greeting. I greeted them back. I'm (as ever) glad to be alive.
