My Heart

In the November issue of O Magazine, Martha Beck has a column titled "You're Doing Just Fine."  She writes about that inner critic that we do battle with and need to oust permanently.  Her solution is an Everybody Committee, which only helps if you have the right people on your Committee.  The secret is to staff your Everybody Committee with people who accept you unconditionally.  Then, as Martha says, "You [will] be supervised, all day every day, by people who forgive your errors and believe in your destiny."

As I read the article I made a mental list of the names of those I needed to kick off my Committee.  It took more thought to create a list of replacement members.

Then it came to me.  You, you who read here, are on my Everybody Committee.  Your encouragement and support is what rings in my ears when I feel lost and unsure, when I question how I got where I am and what comes next.  Your insights enlighten me, your faith in me fills my heart.  I have chosen you as the mirror that reflects the "me" I can't see but most want to be.

For the past several days I have carried with me your positive comments on my last post.  I awoke on Saturday with a soreness in the muscles in my chest.  I had no symptoms of a heart attack, but the bruised feeling brought my awareness to my heart.  I thought about how hard I have been on myself, frustrated and disappointed and sad.  At night I went to bed worried and not feeling well.  What helped me relax were kind words to myself modeled after the reflections of my Everybody Committee

I promised to take better care of myself.

Tuesday  morning my heart started pounding when I sat up in bed.  I dressed slowly and laid down on the couch with the heating pad.  Hours later, when that hadn't helped, I called for a doctor's appointment.  I asked what would feel best while I waited, and the answer was a hot shower and a movie with subtitles [Where Do We Go Now?, which I highly recommend].

Later, after two doctors, two EKGs, a chest xray, and many blood tests, my heart was pronounced healthy. However, my ribs are out of alignment and need attention.

My daughter gently insisted I take her massage appointment Wednesday morning.  My massage therapist worked on my ribs, front and back, my shoulders, neck, and diaphragm for over an hour. We talked about images that came to mind: pliable ribs; a diaphragm that expands when I exhale and deflates when I inhale; loose shoulders; and a head gently perched on soft neck muscles.

I told her I have been hard on myself, and when she asked if I was done with that I said yes.  I told her that scenes from the movie Under the Tuscan Sun came to mind: the dry faucet that eventually runs with water; the strangers that become family; the woman who grows into a life different than what she expected but exactly what she wanted.  We talked about the challenge of living a luscious, juicy life full of what we want, not what we thought we had to accept.

Before Wednesday, when I imagined my heart, I thought of it protected by the surrounding ribs close by, rigid, and watchful.  What if those ribs relaxed and spread out, my lungs had room to breathe, and my heart had room to open?  What would that feel like?

The journey continues....