Sleeping, Trusting, Letting Go

My friend, Fran Wellgood, is also my Reiki Master, Metaphysical Energy Bodywork Therapist. In normal times, I try to get a treatment from Fran every two weeks. Her energy work is incredible, releasing tension and tightness, getting the energy flowing again, balancing and refining, and making room for mental, emotional and physical healing in profound but subtle ways. Fran is a good listener, intuitive, “connected,” if you will, to Source. I resonated with her beautiful writing here, and have had similar thoughts, but without the energy to put pen to paper much. I am very used to isolation and “stay at home,” “shelter in place,” since I stay inside my house nearly all the time — not just for a few weeks, or months, but for years – 30 years — my life with ME/CFS (Chronic Fatigue Syndrome). But this COVID-19 thing is different. There is something very unsettling about it to me. The fear is of the unknown, the most paralyzing for me. The fear of getting it myself (age 60 with multiple autoimmune disorders, and immune system issues. The fear one of my kids or parents or grandkids will get it and not make it. Or just get it. The fear of not knowing how long this will last and that I will totally miss the new baby smell of Isabelle, born 2/29/20, while we “shelter in place.” I dare not risk it. I miss my daughters. So fear that I won’t see them again for a longer time than just April, May, surely by June? No guarantees. Fear that my mom will get it and not survive. Fear that my dad, Alzheimer’s patient in Memory Care Facility, won’t make it through this, and that none of the family will get to see him again. And sadness that Dad, or Mom, or any one of us could perish as we watch the whole thing unfold with quizzical disbelief.

Anyway, here’s what Fran posted today:

via Sleeping, Trusting, Letting Go

Praying for us all,

Ginny xo

Behind but Thankful

Ok, so I’m already behind on the NaBloPoMo – who was I kidding thinking I might do the NaNoWriMo?! I still WANT to do both! But now isn’t this just so telling of my personality?! Life to me is like going to Golden Coral – I tend to fill my plate with much more than I can ever consume. Next time, I do the same all over again.

I am so grateful that I still WANT to do things, even though my body sometimes (ok, often, but I’m an optimist) doesn’t cooperate. Dr. Lapp asks me that question when we have our every six month follow-ups for the chronic fatigue syndrome and fibromyalgia that has plagued me for … it will be 24 years on November 25. “Do you still have interest in things?” At least 85% of the time now I can answer that question in the affirmative. Thank God. The other dark, lonely, flat place is no fun at all. Still, in hindsight when I am feeling better, I am grateful for the low days, too. They are part of the contrast, which makes me appreciate so many little simple things at this stage of my life. Today I am grateful that I WANT to do so many things, including writing. I may fall short of my goals, but I am alive, awake, aspiring for more.

I know I must get on with my day, yet my heart is so FULL of gratitude, so I really only have time to make a list:

* I am grateful for my loving husband, with whom I can be myself, graying hair, pooching belly and all. He adores me and we both agree there is no one we would rather be driven crazy by than each other! I respect him, his values, his strength, his even-tempered personality, and especially the way he walks the dog each night, helps in the kitchen more and more, and does all those fine motor kinds of things that elude me – like the efficient and gentle way he got two splinters out of the palm of my right hand yesterday. He’s the best and deserves his own LONG post! But that will have to wait…

* I am grateful for my beautiful home with its newly remodeled kitchen, the gorgeous yard my husband tends with its now red and yellow and falling leaves; the purple, blue, white and yellow pansies he planted for me in containers on the back porch; the cozy, way it feels when I return to it. Last night, after ten days at the beach, I unlocked the back door, juggling bags and my purse and the keys and all and I walked in, trying not to get bruised again by the heavy storm door. I turned on the lights – the new funky pendant lights – and I couldn’t help but smile. It smelled like home. You know that smell. Every home has its own. But this one was ours, and it felt like putting on my favorite faded, stained sweater on a chilly day.

And now the timer has dinged and there is no time to even finish my list. Shocking for me, I know. I must get in the shower so I won’t be late to appointments. I am grateful for the nice hot shower I am about to have. Many people in this world do not have that luxury you know.