Grace & Woodpeckers: Katherine’s monthly diary

Sitting in the clinic, trees in bloom everywhere and it smells like heaven when you step out the door.  When our beloved Father Jack heard this, he emailed back: “Every step along the way to heaven is heaven.” (Theresa)  By the same understanding, every step away from heaven is hell.

By some kind of grace, my steps are directed towards heaven, even though they are rather stuck these days.

In spite of physical symptoms that make me feel a hundred years old and constant triggers into terror, there is a distinct sense of nearing a breakthrough.  Even though I’m not able to eat properly, exercise consistently or meditate well, in the tiny moments of calm amidst this whirlwind of emotion, exhaustion, blurred vision, bowel dysfunction and achiness, there is a sense of something deeper emerging.

It sounds rather vague, even to myself, laugh.  But I recognize this edge in patients as they head toward healing.  It is much more distinct when I’m on the outside looking in though; thank God (again) that I’m familiar with healing principles, otherwise I would be totally discouraged!

My life continues in a bumbling fashion, but it does continue and even moves forward, often to my own surprise — more grace.  We now have enough support to replace Julie and I have re-started the process of catching up  and continue the process of letting go.  The biggest requirement is that I be patient on all these fronts, inner and outer, and stay the course.  I think it’s called having faith. . .

A cute story about trying to sidetrack and getting reeled back: I was checking out a spiritual dating site for a week or so, totally ignoring my inner voice that suggested it might not be the best thing to be doing right now.

At the same time there were suddenly woodpeckers everywhere, even ones I had never seen before, like a yellow-bellied sapsucker that pounded away at the wooden fence outside my kitchen window where I work on my computer and a flicker on my front lawn when they don’t usually appear until fall, a giant pileated laughing in the maple outside the house and smaller ones coming and going constantly.

Looking up the meaning of woodpeckers, I read, “Are you just jumping into situations with little or no analysis?“  I do an intuitive reading to help discern whether to cease and desist or carry on (as if I didn’t know, roll of eyes).  A clear message to STOP.

So I decide to stop.  My physical symptoms, in this case overwhelming cravings for certain foods, calm down in minutes—and so do all the loud birds.  I haven’t seen any of them since then.  A little weird…but clear: no dating!  The next immediate aftermath was a bout of laryngitis, in GNM the healing phase of a fright, which I prolonged by 5 days with excessive talking and activity instead of quiet and sleep.  You’d think I would learn this by now, but I still find it hard to balance my own and others’ needs…

In the meantime, my new healing housemate has left, able to continue his program at home, leaving Felix and myself alone.  It’s mostly peaceful, as much as you can call living with a 4 year old who is learning martial arts peaceful, and I love the house to ourselves for now.  The challenge will be not to fill it up with clutter or new projects and use the quiet to go deeper— even when deeper is terrifying.

For more help with that, I started trauma therapy with an EMDR practitioner in Ottawa about a month ago, eternally optimistic that I can learn to handle the intensities that my body and emotions dish up at a moment’s notice.  Now I have everything I need to do this work.  No excuses.  A balance between caretaking Felix, clinic work and personal growth.  This is indeed a grace, let me not waste it. . .

It’s raining now, thank goodness.  The newly re-installed rain barrels are up and ready to catch the flow in preparation for another dry summer.

wishing you grace in your own healing this lovely spring,
katherine

PS: We’re requesting old blankets and sleeping bags to cover our sweat lodge and mulch the garden.  Donated items can be handed in to Colette at reception.  Donors are welcome to come for a sweat in the new lodge—just leave your name and email when you drop off the items if you are interested.