Organ systems and string theory physics are so close, I feel like every neuron is delving into new philosophical challenges. My classmates are struggling with knowing where they truly are as we learn how we perceive where we are. I don't, so much. My vestibular system, which is where we get our sense of personal space from, is all messed up. If I stand up and close my eyes I don't have an innate impression of where the world stands in comparison to me. I just fall down.
Curiouser and curiouser, I know that I've trained other senses to help me stand straight and dance. I wonder what interposes for my brain- whether my sense of visual mapping is larger, or if I've honed my hearing for things beyond normal perception, or even just cultivated somatosensory perception beyond the normal thresholds that such sensation enjoys.
There are tales of yogis who can control even their heat production, drying wet blankets in seconds, of people who exist on air alone, of people who hear the stones talking. I am so very old, and so very young. My hair has started turning white. I've outlived three children who never made it to the world beyond the womb. I get carded every time I walk into a bar.
I'm starting to wonder what I'm capable of, and whether I'll be able to do so consciously. In just this year alone, I've bled for thirty days continuously- and lived. I've had a dream that showed me the future, though I didn't understand it at the time. I've moved from the shadows that were holding me back, talked to doctors in four corners of the globe, meditated up a protective hedge of roses while being filled with starlight. I'm in love with the world, enamored by the sky, enchanted with the trees. I'm starting to come into myself. I think my neurons are starting to make new pathways.
I think I'm finding God.
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
embodiment principle
Your brain doesn't know that you aren't part of the chair you're sitting on.
It's not wired to.
the pressures and sensations of the tools that you use fire through your nervous system, building the world that you can touch and feel. Think of it, your leg touching the chair touching the floor and yet you know.
You know that the floor is level, or that it isn't. You know the floor is soft, or if it isn't. You sense the passing of a train, the rumbling of the earth restlessly turning beneath your consciousness.
We are connected to everything, a part of everything that we touch
Right now, you and I are together. You and I are the embodiment of eachother.
I feel you
You are not alone, never alone.
It's not wired to.
the pressures and sensations of the tools that you use fire through your nervous system, building the world that you can touch and feel. Think of it, your leg touching the chair touching the floor and yet you know.
You know that the floor is level, or that it isn't. You know the floor is soft, or if it isn't. You sense the passing of a train, the rumbling of the earth restlessly turning beneath your consciousness.
We are connected to everything, a part of everything that we touch
Right now, you and I are together. You and I are the embodiment of eachother.
I feel you
You are not alone, never alone.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Healing Vision
I had a counseling appointment last night with someone whom my primary care physician had recommended for me to see. I knew in advance that it was an "intuitive counseling session" but I didn't really know what that meant. As a hot mess, I didn't really care. I just needed help.
I walked out of my micro class about half an hour early, and got to my appointment fifteen minutes early. I pulled the Dresden novel I'm rereading out of my purse as I sat in the waiting room tastefully decorated by ikea and began to read.
Fifteen minutes later, an extremely pregnant woman came out of the back room, and I thought "Seriously?"
I ran through the list of things that would interfere with a miscarriage counseling session, and then decided that this counselor would have greater empathy for me, because she for sure knew how having a life inside of you changes your mind and body.
She called my name, directed me to a chair, and then got me a glass of water. Then she asked if I wanted an explanation, or if I wanted to just jump right in. In hindsight, an explanation would be nice. But as ever, I like flying by the seat of my pants, so I just wanted to jump in.
She said ok, and then told me that she sees better with her eyes closed, and told me to imagine myself in a robins egg bubble and to feel the earth coming up to meet us. She said she just wanted to look around first, and then after she saw, then I could tell her what I was there about.
She closed her eyes and looked at me.
And saw sunshine, but with a shadow holding on to me, closing my crown chakra and third eye. She called on the archangels to clear away this shadow, this 15 year old shadow, and asked them to stay with me as I heal. I forget what was going on 15 years ago precisely, but I was 8 then. I think. If I did my math right. That was the year I first got sick.
After the shadow was cleared away, the top of my head was oddly sensitive, and she said that I would have an easier time reaching out to God, now that nothing was in the way. She said with the shadow gone, I had faerie energy coating my sunshine. Then she asked me why I was there.
And she looked at the "baby-beings" and put out an intention that we only wanted healthy babies who were interested in the full, being human experience, and one of the three left. She thought he was the first miscarriage. The other two, she said, were the twins. And that one of them was headstrong and all about being material, and that the other wasn't so sure, and that they'd had a deal to come together so that the strong one could help the weak one, but the weaker one had backed out. She said she'd be surprised if they came in at the same time again, but also said that she thought it would be these two who would come the next time.
She looked at me and my husband, and grounded out the grief and the pain so that we could better reach out to one another.
She had me tell all of the horrible things that people said to me into a single rose, and then blow that rose up. (which was a little distressing for me, but I suppose that there was beautiful intention in many of the terrible things they said.)
She told me to pay attention to my jaw, and that there was so much tightness there from holding on to a game face, and then we cleared that. We cleared a genetic tape through the female line that whispered "It's hard to be the woman" and I feel so much more clear on that- I've always thought it was a beautiful and wonderful thing to be a woman. I miss my menses, and my connection to the moon and I fully enjoy all of the lovely things that make being a woman so wonderful. I love that I'm capable of nurturing life.
She told me that I had a healer's energy (but she didn't ask me what I do for a living) and that I need to work on psychospiritual boundaries so that I only attract people who are interested in healing themselves, not in just draining my own healing energy.
She told me something that I've only had people I know very well (like, my best friend after we'd known each other for 6 years ) tell me, which is that I'm through and through honest, like the essence of truth. And that I go around shocking people, and then when I should follow that up with more words, I feel them withdraw with shock, and then I withdraw to give them space, and they decide that the distance is me-imposed. She told me ways that I could work on that space and shock and dialogue, but then told me that most of the people who don't appreciate that honesty probably aren't that good for me anyway.
She told me that my rejection complex probably started with someone who I embarrassed that didn't know what to do with me, and had her own intimacy issues, and that that's why I'm not so good at asking for answers.
She also told me that this period of helplessness is good practice in asking again.
We talked about a lot of things, in just an hour, or rather, she told me a lot of things and I filled in some gaps and helped focus her on what I needed her to see.
But the important thing is that I feel so much more whole. I can see opportunities and joy stretched ahead of me. I learned about myself. I feel closer to God. and I got to see my babies.
I love alternative medicine, and the myriad gifts that people are given.
I walked out of my micro class about half an hour early, and got to my appointment fifteen minutes early. I pulled the Dresden novel I'm rereading out of my purse as I sat in the waiting room tastefully decorated by ikea and began to read.
Fifteen minutes later, an extremely pregnant woman came out of the back room, and I thought "Seriously?"
I ran through the list of things that would interfere with a miscarriage counseling session, and then decided that this counselor would have greater empathy for me, because she for sure knew how having a life inside of you changes your mind and body.
She called my name, directed me to a chair, and then got me a glass of water. Then she asked if I wanted an explanation, or if I wanted to just jump right in. In hindsight, an explanation would be nice. But as ever, I like flying by the seat of my pants, so I just wanted to jump in.
She said ok, and then told me that she sees better with her eyes closed, and told me to imagine myself in a robins egg bubble and to feel the earth coming up to meet us. She said she just wanted to look around first, and then after she saw, then I could tell her what I was there about.
She closed her eyes and looked at me.
And saw sunshine, but with a shadow holding on to me, closing my crown chakra and third eye. She called on the archangels to clear away this shadow, this 15 year old shadow, and asked them to stay with me as I heal. I forget what was going on 15 years ago precisely, but I was 8 then. I think. If I did my math right. That was the year I first got sick.
After the shadow was cleared away, the top of my head was oddly sensitive, and she said that I would have an easier time reaching out to God, now that nothing was in the way. She said with the shadow gone, I had faerie energy coating my sunshine. Then she asked me why I was there.
And she looked at the "baby-beings" and put out an intention that we only wanted healthy babies who were interested in the full, being human experience, and one of the three left. She thought he was the first miscarriage. The other two, she said, were the twins. And that one of them was headstrong and all about being material, and that the other wasn't so sure, and that they'd had a deal to come together so that the strong one could help the weak one, but the weaker one had backed out. She said she'd be surprised if they came in at the same time again, but also said that she thought it would be these two who would come the next time.
She looked at me and my husband, and grounded out the grief and the pain so that we could better reach out to one another.
She had me tell all of the horrible things that people said to me into a single rose, and then blow that rose up. (which was a little distressing for me, but I suppose that there was beautiful intention in many of the terrible things they said.)
She told me to pay attention to my jaw, and that there was so much tightness there from holding on to a game face, and then we cleared that. We cleared a genetic tape through the female line that whispered "It's hard to be the woman" and I feel so much more clear on that- I've always thought it was a beautiful and wonderful thing to be a woman. I miss my menses, and my connection to the moon and I fully enjoy all of the lovely things that make being a woman so wonderful. I love that I'm capable of nurturing life.
She told me that I had a healer's energy (but she didn't ask me what I do for a living) and that I need to work on psychospiritual boundaries so that I only attract people who are interested in healing themselves, not in just draining my own healing energy.
She told me something that I've only had people I know very well (like, my best friend after we'd known each other for 6 years ) tell me, which is that I'm through and through honest, like the essence of truth. And that I go around shocking people, and then when I should follow that up with more words, I feel them withdraw with shock, and then I withdraw to give them space, and they decide that the distance is me-imposed. She told me ways that I could work on that space and shock and dialogue, but then told me that most of the people who don't appreciate that honesty probably aren't that good for me anyway.
She told me that my rejection complex probably started with someone who I embarrassed that didn't know what to do with me, and had her own intimacy issues, and that that's why I'm not so good at asking for answers.
She also told me that this period of helplessness is good practice in asking again.
We talked about a lot of things, in just an hour, or rather, she told me a lot of things and I filled in some gaps and helped focus her on what I needed her to see.
But the important thing is that I feel so much more whole. I can see opportunities and joy stretched ahead of me. I learned about myself. I feel closer to God. and I got to see my babies.
I love alternative medicine, and the myriad gifts that people are given.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Somewhere Underneath
Somewhere
Underneath my mind
There's a rhyme, there's a rhyme
That is going on in time
and
Somewhere
Underneath my head,
there's a Boom, there's a Boom
that is going on instead
And somehow
I'll make it through this
And somehow
I'll make it through this.
(verses and audio file to finish and post at a later date. Don't steal my lyrics. )
Underneath my mind
There's a rhyme, there's a rhyme
That is going on in time
and
Somewhere
Underneath my head,
there's a Boom, there's a Boom
that is going on instead
And somehow
I'll make it through this
And somehow
I'll make it through this.
(verses and audio file to finish and post at a later date. Don't steal my lyrics. )
Saturday, April 9, 2011
I've been gone for so long.
I was listening to Dr. Dre's I Need a Doctor, because I'm hip like that. I sometimes listen to whatever those young folks are into, when I'm not listening to the public broadcast of classical music on my way to school.
Anyway, this song has a lot of lyrics. They kinda mumble, since they're rappers. I only know the chorus, which has been stuck in my head all day.
It runs like so:
And that's pretty much what happened today.
Right after surgery, I was so relieved to be alive that I couldn't think of anything else. Relief, and being tired, and frustration with my new physical limitations. Stress for finishing the quarter. Stress about how much of a burden I've become for my family and loved ones. I'm really good at independence, and I'm pretty sure I hit the double portion of stoicism. I'm too tough for my own good, and I never really relax when people are taking care of me.
Anyway, vacations, reconnections, the start of a new quarter. I've been drinking too much. I haven't been eating. I'm not sleeping well. I've been so focused on just being alive that these weren't warning bells for me. I was so angry with myself when I couldn't carry my pathology book, so mad that I made myself do it anyway. I pulled my incisions open again. I drank so much I threw up. I put my belly button ring back in, even though I knew it was too soon. It got infected. I pulled it back out and left it on the counter. I put on three outfits this morning, ironed each piece carefully and hated myself in all of them. Now, belly button also injured and late for work, I had no time for breakfast. I forgot my tea on the counter. I had to do 65 mph to get to work on time. Couldn't refuse the shift, I missed three weeks of work and it was an opportunity to almost completely make up for that.
So here I was. Continuing Education form collector and question answerer, designated to sit in on all of the lectures for this conference.
What conference?
Oh, the women's health, libido, and fertility conference.
Yeah, maybe I should have thought that one through before volunteering to come back to work this weekend.
But anyway, I'm sitting through these lectures, checking people in, giving them their notes, answering their questions, fetching extra batteries for the damn projector clicker/pointer thingies.
And I could just feel myself starting to crumble.
It's the third lecture of the day. I'm checking this older guy and much younger girl into a talk about a holistic approach to infertility. I've already checked him in to two other lectures, so I'm familiar with his face, and his cell phone habit (I hope it was client related, because it was super distracting to watch him walk in and out the whole time.)
Anyway, he jostles this girl's arm. Her handwriting shoots across the page, one which I'll be typing in to a computer, and so I'm annoyed already. The girl turns to him and says "stop it, you're such a bastard." They continue on, and it appears good-hearted for all of its negative connotations and language. These two people clearly know each other. It's a small community, that's bound to happen.
But this guy looks up at me and decides that I should be included in the banter.
And he says (I shit you not, these are his actual words) : "Don't ever have kids. They're so ungrateful, they never give you anything back, they're just a drain on your resources and energy."
And the girl, in the background, says "Dad, stop being such a jerk".
And I'm dumbfounded.
He's still looking at me, like I'm supposed to contribute to this conversation.
The only thing I can think to say is "I just had a really traumatic miscarriage. I'm only a couple weeks out of surgery."
Which, let's be fair, shut him up really fast and also called him out on some insensitivity that he probably hadn't intended. I hope he apologized to his daughter, but all I know for sure is that he apologized to me. Also, he was really quiet and considerate for the rest of the lecture, finally.
But I just couldn't quite get a grip on it for the rest of the conference. I had to leave my presentations and go cry in the bathroom. I was watching the final (nonCE) presentation with a friend, and another friend came up and asked me how I was doing, and I burst into tears. My boss let me go home, and referred me to an acupuncturist that has really helped him through some emotional problems.
My friend took me out for drinks (and french fries. mmmmmm I love french fries)
and we talked for like, three hours. About how awful everything's been, and how I just can't keep it together, and I'm too stressed out, and how I hate being so much of a burden on everyone (ironically). And also about life, and some about roommates and religion and philosophy. There was a little balance there.
And now I'm pretty well transitioned into seeing how I've been gone from myself for so long. and that I need a doctor, call me a doctor, I need a doctor, doctor...
So that's my plan for tomorrow. Get stuff set up at the clinic on the ND and CCM side. Get therapy started up. Start playing the violin again. Start really dealing with the grief and lingering depression and anger. Think more positively about myself. Try to be patient with my recovering body. Slow down the negative self talk. Try to get some sleep. Be more conscious of how much I'm drinking and really slow that down, hopefully back to the one to two drinks I usually have per week. Try to be graceful to myself.
That's the plan, anyway.
Fortunately, I'm surrounded by doctors, doctors, doctors, every day. That'll help me remember to at least try.
Anyway, this song has a lot of lyrics. They kinda mumble, since they're rappers. I only know the chorus, which has been stuck in my head all day.
It runs like so:
I'm about to lose my mind You've been gone for so long I'm running out of time I need a doctor Call me a doctor I need a doctor, doctor To bring me back to life Bring me back to life Bring me back to life
Right after surgery, I was so relieved to be alive that I couldn't think of anything else. Relief, and being tired, and frustration with my new physical limitations. Stress for finishing the quarter. Stress about how much of a burden I've become for my family and loved ones. I'm really good at independence, and I'm pretty sure I hit the double portion of stoicism. I'm too tough for my own good, and I never really relax when people are taking care of me.
Anyway, vacations, reconnections, the start of a new quarter. I've been drinking too much. I haven't been eating. I'm not sleeping well. I've been so focused on just being alive that these weren't warning bells for me. I was so angry with myself when I couldn't carry my pathology book, so mad that I made myself do it anyway. I pulled my incisions open again. I drank so much I threw up. I put my belly button ring back in, even though I knew it was too soon. It got infected. I pulled it back out and left it on the counter. I put on three outfits this morning, ironed each piece carefully and hated myself in all of them. Now, belly button also injured and late for work, I had no time for breakfast. I forgot my tea on the counter. I had to do 65 mph to get to work on time. Couldn't refuse the shift, I missed three weeks of work and it was an opportunity to almost completely make up for that.
So here I was. Continuing Education form collector and question answerer, designated to sit in on all of the lectures for this conference.
What conference?
Oh, the women's health, libido, and fertility conference.
Yeah, maybe I should have thought that one through before volunteering to come back to work this weekend.
But anyway, I'm sitting through these lectures, checking people in, giving them their notes, answering their questions, fetching extra batteries for the damn projector clicker/pointer thingies.
And I could just feel myself starting to crumble.
It's the third lecture of the day. I'm checking this older guy and much younger girl into a talk about a holistic approach to infertility. I've already checked him in to two other lectures, so I'm familiar with his face, and his cell phone habit (I hope it was client related, because it was super distracting to watch him walk in and out the whole time.)
Anyway, he jostles this girl's arm. Her handwriting shoots across the page, one which I'll be typing in to a computer, and so I'm annoyed already. The girl turns to him and says "stop it, you're such a bastard." They continue on, and it appears good-hearted for all of its negative connotations and language. These two people clearly know each other. It's a small community, that's bound to happen.
But this guy looks up at me and decides that I should be included in the banter.
And he says (I shit you not, these are his actual words) : "Don't ever have kids. They're so ungrateful, they never give you anything back, they're just a drain on your resources and energy."
And the girl, in the background, says "Dad, stop being such a jerk".
And I'm dumbfounded.
He's still looking at me, like I'm supposed to contribute to this conversation.
The only thing I can think to say is "I just had a really traumatic miscarriage. I'm only a couple weeks out of surgery."
Which, let's be fair, shut him up really fast and also called him out on some insensitivity that he probably hadn't intended. I hope he apologized to his daughter, but all I know for sure is that he apologized to me. Also, he was really quiet and considerate for the rest of the lecture, finally.
But I just couldn't quite get a grip on it for the rest of the conference. I had to leave my presentations and go cry in the bathroom. I was watching the final (nonCE) presentation with a friend, and another friend came up and asked me how I was doing, and I burst into tears. My boss let me go home, and referred me to an acupuncturist that has really helped him through some emotional problems.
My friend took me out for drinks (and french fries. mmmmmm I love french fries)
and we talked for like, three hours. About how awful everything's been, and how I just can't keep it together, and I'm too stressed out, and how I hate being so much of a burden on everyone (ironically). And also about life, and some about roommates and religion and philosophy. There was a little balance there.
And now I'm pretty well transitioned into seeing how I've been gone from myself for so long. and that I need a doctor, call me a doctor, I need a doctor, doctor...
So that's my plan for tomorrow. Get stuff set up at the clinic on the ND and CCM side. Get therapy started up. Start playing the violin again. Start really dealing with the grief and lingering depression and anger. Think more positively about myself. Try to be patient with my recovering body. Slow down the negative self talk. Try to get some sleep. Be more conscious of how much I'm drinking and really slow that down, hopefully back to the one to two drinks I usually have per week. Try to be graceful to myself.
That's the plan, anyway.
Fortunately, I'm surrounded by doctors, doctors, doctors, every day. That'll help me remember to at least try.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Macrophages love frosting.
The yellow box is filled with lungs, pointing to surfactins. That's the goo that keeps your lungs from being stuck shut when you breath out. Apparently the goo also decorates bacteria in green globules of frosting.
Macrophages love frosting. They'd eat birthday cake on the ground, they like frosting so much. (Really, let's look within and see who among us wouldn't eat birthday cake, even off the ground. Birthday cake is delicious, and there's the 5 second rule that has nothing to do with what microbes are doing to your food and everything to do with how much you want that piece of floor-covered deliciousness.)
Don't worry, though. That cake-bacteria would have to go through 5 physical barriers and avoid 3 different sets of ubiquitous proteins, all of whom want to poke holes in bacteria, to make you feel sick. If you're allergic to cake, though, Helper T-cell 3 would pretty much set off all the stuff that makes you feel bad to get rid of all particles of the cake.
And that's the very, very general overview of what I learned in immunology today.
I love school.
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