Messages from within

I am getting messages from deep within.  And they are disturbing me.

When I look deep into the core of myself, into my body, into this vastly mysterious system of gut flora and blood circulation and qi meridians and heart and soul, this incredibly complex world that is the thing called "me," and when I ask it how it's doing.... I am getting a really sad and unnerving answer.

It's scared.  It's angry.  The part of me, the self that's not a self, the whole complex arrangement of cells and energy that makes up this thing called "Kathy" -- is scared, and angry.  And it's scared and angry at... me.

I can only try to explain this sense.  My body, my essence, is scared and angry at the way I run things.  It's scared because it worries that when I get back to "normal" I'll run it too hard, push it too hard, sell it out too readily.

It worries that I will sacrifice its well being for others'.  That I will mortgage off its health and forget these hard fought lessons I'm learning.  It's angry at me for years of treating it like a fork lift.  It worries that all these things may have caused it this current amount of suffering and fear.  It worries that we'll go back and have to learn these lessons again if we don't learn them right the first time.  It worries about what's going to happen next as we enter into this vortex of new and brutal treatments.  It worries that it doesn't have a voice.

And to this I have to answer that I'm sorry.  And that I am extremely grateful.  My  body is strong.  My spirit is strong.  And I don't think I've abused it so horribly much -- but of course something went haywire, and I have to listen to that. 

So we are engaging in a dialog, a deep subterranean dialog.  Trying to figure out, first, where this dichotomy between the two flavors of self is coming from.  Trying to honor and respect and coax out that voice that is trying to be heard, now that there is a little bit of time and silence to do some deep thinking.

I don't want to add to the "let's bust Kathy for working too hard" fest.  As popular and as easy as that stance is to take, I really don't think it's that.  The people who wave this flag are people who really, I'm sorry, don't get me.  And I don't think I could change myself radically enough if it was that. I am a person of intense interests, who loses herself joyfully in productivity and creativity and loves working hard to achieve a worthy goal.  I resist this "working too hard" paradigm as a basis for blaming me for what's going on.  It's something else that's a problem.  It really is.

I think it is more along the very deeply rooted need I have to take care of everything first and then try to make due with the scraps left over on the banquet table.  I've mentioned that before and I'm sure I'll keep circling back. I have a hunch this is part of the whole breast cancer metaphor -- feeding the world before feeding the self.  The oxygen mask thing.  The part that is too polite to speak up when a need needs to be met.

It's not like I'm a dishrag.  Faaaaar from it.  I am certainly not a mousy, timid, self effacing, subservient woman as anyone who knows me will confirm.  So part of me resists this "putting everyone first" explanation, as well as the "works too hard" theory.

It's something else.  It's something... else. 

It breaks my heart when I get this feeling that there's a part of me that is scared of me.  I really want to make amends.  And I also really want to understand what's going on.  As I start thinking about getting back to doing some work that need getting done, I worry deeply: Will I know when to stop?  Can I preserve the quiet needed to hear my own inner voices?  Will I still be able to allow this lovely flow of words to continue coming out of my fingertips?  Can I learn to be one of those rare individuals who can remain lovely and gracious and kind, while still being very clear about what their needs are, and are able to conscientiously take care of themselves without drama or fuss, but appropriately, and well?

I think this can be done.  I need to maybe switch the roles a little bit between the ego/stage manager me and the body/mind/spirit me.  Maybe the stage manager has been a little too bossy and needs to acknowledge that... in the bigger scheme of things... the body/mind/spirit team is actually in control.  Again, as much as we'd like to believe the little guy upstairs in the control room, the one who talks incessantly about how in control he is ... it really isn't the case.  It's the softer parts of us, the less verbal, the fuzzier pieces that really make up the majority of the whole. And if those pieces go, especially the body part, the game really is over... at least on the playing field we are currently engaged upon.

So I hope I can learn to hear those other voices more clearly.  I need to keep writing.  I also have several wonderful people in my life whom I can use as role models... women who move through the world with an open heart and a helping hand, but who still stay healthy in body, mind, and spirit, tending their personal resources with a good and loving guardianship. That's who I want to be.