Tuesday, February 28, 2017

mountains of glass

In the dark of the night I walked to work. Another storm brewing in the mountains. Snow on the ground. Town tucked in and ready to wait it out.

It was me the hush of a light snow fall and the darkness.

Eons ago in hypnotherapy I was asked to pick a image to be used as a switch to activate instant relaxation mode for all of my system.

I choose falling snow.

Because its so peaceful and quiet, and that was the place in my head I wanted to recreate/go to.

My hypnotherapy lessons have stuck with me. I still use them to this day.

So as I walked in the snowy night, I let my mind wander. A time of introspection and soul searching.

This one thing I miss about working in GP. The commute was 45 min of time to do this. A kind of self therapy session. Just me and my head.

I am still grappling with the diagnosis. That is what my head choose to discuss this dark night.

I have what is commonly referred to as "an invisible illness."

You would not look at me and think, "Oh, she is ill."

I once cared for a lady with multiple sclerosis. She told me that her daughter didn't believe that she was ill, and used to think she was faking it. Her daughter used to stab her in the legs with a fork to try to prove to her that there was nothing wrong with her muscles.

Sobering thoughts as I am finding my physical ability deteriorating.

I am struggling with coming to terms with the diagnosis's of myositis and rheumatoid arthritis. My body is struggling also with the natural winding down of my menses too. Peri-menopause + major illness + thyroid trouble + lifelong depression = more upheaval in my life then I want.

I took 2 week off last October with the intention of organizing my "healing journey" manuscript. It's all there I just need to put it in the right order and fill in any missing spots. I spent those two weeks riding out the side effects of being placed on prednisone and grappling with the new diagnosis. Brain fog so bad I could write even if I wanted too.

The arthritis in my hands so severe I wasn't sure I was going to be able to go back to work with then vacation was over. The S.A.D kicking my ass and open the door for my head to declare OPEN SEASON on me. I've spent the last 4 month fighting tsunami sized waves of suicidal thoughts.

Leading me to make a bucket list. Things to do while I still physically can. As I walked that night, the thing that my soul burped up first to put on the bucket list was to go visit the obsidian flow at the lava beds.

To stand with the mountains of shiny black glass. To marvel at the beauty that was born from such a chaotic violent birth.

I haven't been to the lava beds since I took the farm kids close to 20 years ago.  My parents took me there a lot as a child.

The history is deep and rich. The caves are all different and cherished friends.

Then there is the obsidian flow......it defies description. You go through the woods and then the trees give way to a massive. MASSIVE mountain range of beautiful volcanic glass. The sun just lights it up. There are huge boulders, small make-me-into-arrowheads pieces, and every size in between.

I once climbed it. The glass that dislodges in my wake made a tinkling sound as it danced down the hill side.

My soul needs to stand and cry with the mountains of glass. Sharp. shiny, black, dear dear old friends.  I need to see my reflection in the darkness of the obsidian. To search for the snow flake obsidian and see that snow can be captured and perfectly preserved, confirming that like me, beauty can exist in violent places.

To wait for the sun to find the rainbow obsidian...it's so much like me...when the sun catches us just right, you can see a rainbow in our darkness.

I need to travel to this sacred place and bath in the caves, and drink the obsidian.

I need  to grieve this new development in my guardian training.

1 comment:

  1. Thank you for sharing your story and writings, DogDancing/Paja. I know you've heard this before, but each time I read something you've created, it amazes me afresh - the natural gift you have. It truly is a gift. One I'm sometimes jealous of. It is a precious jewel you own. I also read the Guardian post from 2013. We have some things in common, as you know; however, I hesitate to say much when not anon. I hope you do get to the obsidian mountains and caves and wallow in them as long as you need. They sound amazing. I never heard of them. I'll have to look up some pictures of them. I do hope you find the combo of meds/essential oils or whatever else that could be helpful.

    I know we don't share the same sort of faith; in fact, I'm not even sure if you embrace any particular faith, but I hope you will one day. It's the only thing that has kept me breathing, I will say that much. Free will on this planet and in the universe can reap terrible consequences to others when evil abounds. One day this will all end. I know it doesn't mean much to you, but I feel compelled to say it anyway. Sorry for commenting with a book here...Peace be your journey, my friend. ~ Abby