Water, earth, wind, fire

Repost from tumblr: Mindfulness MS

The heavenly blue morning glories that graced our garden for so long; blossoms big as the child’s hand at their peak, have died with the first frost, leaving but a brown, tangly reminder.

In 1995, 25 years old, and though long realized (9 years of remissions and recurrences), the grief I experienced when my mother died was overwhelming, more than I could handle- though handle it I did, and thus started my MS journey. Grief was my trigger for an illness I was hereditarily and karmically destined for

I’ve been engaging in dream work- keeping a dream journal since I was in my late teens, and exploring dreams in groups since I was in my mid-twenties. I don’t always remember my dreams because I have a three and a half year old who wakes up with me, but also because I enjoy ‘medical marijuana’ which I feel is unparalled for stiffness and tremors, and helpful with pain. But the jury’s still out on how good it is for balance, and not so good for memory.

So, these days dreams are a real treat to me, and instruct me loudly. Torsos have made an appearance lately. It’s changed the way I walk, my posture maybe, and my awareness of my body. As I’ve written, I work out thrice weekly at the gym. I’ve been doing this for a year and a half. It is an activity I enjoy but falls short in replacing hiking. It is from strengthening my core that I know I can hold up my body. Wobbly as my legs may be, trees teach that a strong center can weather any storm.

My other healing modalities of late are Water! Lately, my fluid intake is minimal- two even one glass of water each day. But every health advisor- either in person or by the written word- advocates for drinking more, more, more! 8 glasses a day. So, I have very recently started trying to do just this. (Excuse me while I take this opportunity to hydrate.) I look forward to seeing if this is helpful and healing.

These days, mantra brings me closer to the Divine. Chanting keeps me present in the moment. I’ve been saying/singing, “Manorah ha makom ha zeh…” in Shefa Gold’s melody. These are the words Jacob speaks on the night he wrestles with the angel. “G-d was in this place and I did not know it.” Transpose ‘G-d’ to any life giving, awe-inspiring affirmation. I did not open myself up to the divine guidance in this moment.

And the other thing on my mind a lot of late is the beginning of the fire building season, I’m anticipating getting splinters in my hands from the wood stove all winter long! I’ve heated with wood for over 20 years now (from the wilds of New Mexico, the mountains of Colorado, Lake country in N.J, bear country in Mass., and now (home for 16 years, the Mid-Hudson Valley of New York State.) Fire warms, soothes, occasionally gives messages (see previous post), and is so very messy! The autumn wind keeps blowing the doors open and the sun is streaming in the kitchen windows. As a younger woman, I learned that life is like a river. Your past is that which flows away from you, your future is that which flows towards you, and you are standing in the water.

And so I walk to the stream on the side of our house. It is my physical therapy. Drop foot, walking stick, and balance issues aside, I am setting myself the goal of walking in an M.S. walk on May 4, 2014. By that time, in my sterling imagination, I should be capable, competent, healed of all mobility issues and this illness that manages to challenge me immensely. The terrain is uneven, rocky. The fallen leaves have make it slippery and slick, but the water is cool, flowing from yesterday’s rains, and musical, and here stand I. HiNeni

 

Twilight

The sun crosses the sky, earth rolls away from the sun

Like tulips openning and closing in day and dark

I open and close

Because she is so impersonal, ama d’a alah, the Great Mother

Through her fire, she renews the garment world each night

I breathe in, she breathes out

Grasping the copper vessel from my hands

Like a shadow-fox

Slipping between sound, and the smell of spilt ceremony tea

She is the Queen in the field, lighting the altar candle

A yellow warbler flies in the temple window

A stone heart lays hidden in the soft moss

Growing stars, and florets, and clover

The blue- expansive sky

The illuminating, deeply familiar dream of the black spider

In this place, in a velvet chair, in her infernal grace

The wakeful world has presence

I sit in her door way, the mouth covered with leaves

Trees in the wind creak- like an openning door

by, Yiskah Koock