The Sunday after the blizzard was sunny. The following Monday we had wet snow and rain. Flurries came and went throughout the week. More snow yesterday morning made a mess of the roads, and the biting wind continued through most of today. I can't remember when we've had so many blustery days in such a short span of time.
I am trying to think of the wind as a cleansing force, blowing out the old to make room for the new.
Ten days ago I had a massage. I still had my cold but the cough was easing a bit. It occurred to me as I lay on the table that I hadn't felt the stress in my chest for a few days. My massage therapist and I were chatting about movies and books. Then I got quiet. Late November was the last time I felt completely well. I thought about what had been going on earlier last autumn.
The tears started to fall.
I quickly said that I was okay. It was just that something came to mind for the first time, and it startled me. I had been going, going, going my whole life. My earliest memories are of always having something to do and someone to look out for. For the first time in my life that is not true.
It was as if I'd been going ninety miles an hour for more than fifty years and all of a sudden I threw the brakes on. I had no one to take care of, no place I had to be, and nothing I had to do.
Ten days ago during a massage I described my life as blank, a clean slate. Things have fallen away until there are big chunks of time where I just am. There are days at a time when there are no expectations, nothing is needed of me. If I have strong feelings about not wanting to do something, I don't do it.
I have never felt this way before. There is a petulant toddler in me that throws tantrums and says "no."
Honestly, I think it's about time. I think my body thinks so too and knew that it wouldn't happen until life came to a full stop. So that's what happened. My body needed a break and found the least harmful way to take one. I'm grateful it didn't take a heart attack or broken bones to get my attention.
I. Just. Stopped.
Ten days ago on the massage table I put that together with how sad I have been feeling. I haven't pushed the feelings away. I have let the waves of sadness wash over me. I haven't found something to keep myself busy. I haven't gone shopping or joined a book club or made new friends.
I. Just. Stopped.
It sounds boring. I haven't had much to share about what's been going on. There are people I can always talk to and we've continued to find plenty to talk about. I haven't felt the need to make small talk with people I don't know well, and I haven't made excuses for that. I ran into someone from town in the grocery store and she said no one had seen me for awhile. I told her that I've been in hibernation since last fall. I enjoyed having my son home for awhile. Then I needed time to come to terms with the knowledge that life is not going to turn out like I thought it would. I needed time to mourn that.
Ten days ago I said out loud that my life is blank. My massage therapist listened and worked to help my muscles release and relax. My body was listening, too. It was as if it breathed a sigh of relief that what I had buried was working its way to the surface, glad to hear me say the words, no energy spent worrying about how it might sound. It is what it is.
At the end of the session my massage therapist gently offered that I might think of my life as open. I think I might like to consider that. I have another massage scheduled for this week. Maybe something else will come to mind...
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6 comments:
I'm glad to hear that you're honouring yourself and your needs, acknowledging your need to mourn, and rest, and be gentle with yourself. Check out the book, "When the
Body Says No" by Dr. Gabor Mate. You'll find it interesting, I think.
Be well, my friend.
I am afraid to really read your words. I. Just. Stopped. I hold my breath. How do we just stop? The rest of the world is whizzing by. All contributing something. I keep plugging away, but deep and far away your post echoes in my heart.
You have been on this journey with such focus. I send blessing and love. I wait. Know you are an inspiration to me.
I tend to overbook myself the minute I have free time. I'm slowly learning to let go of that. You sound like you're in a good place. There's something about massage, and it happens in yoga too, that opens the heart or the hurt places and tears are common. Glad you are good with letting it be. Even if it is stillness. Maybe espcially because it is stillness.
Your words touched my heart.
Tear filled eyes.
You have in many ways described this One Woman who is beyond you in years - and still trying to stop and breathe.
Finally times of this - but not often
enough.
Much you shared is why 3 years ago
I built a small home by the woods.
A blessing is your massage.
Sharon, you don't feel like you have much to share? Oh my goodness, this post speaks VOLUMES!
For 50 years you've been driving, taking care of others, tending to their needs. I'm glad the 'brakes' was not a heart attack or broken bones, but an illness gentle enough to let you feel what has been trapped in your body for years. It's like the boulders are being removed, and the water is just flowing, tears, lymph, blood, energy.
I wonder what the next massage will awaken.
What a wonderful process of self discovery you are in! And so aware but the brain is sometimes powerful against the just being, all of our shoulds, coulds and expectations to be shed. Hugs and power to you Sharon!
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