I was having a knock down fight with myself yesterday. It started with me on the phone with Medco Health, arguing about my prescription, when I suddenly burst into tears. I felt sore and exhausted, and it had been difficult to walk, move and even breathe. And this woman was telling me that my arthritic medicine would be delayed once again, due to red tape and bureaucracy. And the accumulated weight of all the pain and frustration finally overloaded my defenses and my boundaries crumbled under the burden of yet another unyielding administrator.
The woman at one point said something akin to “I’m sorry but I cannot hear what you are saying.” And I responded by saying, “That is because I am crying.” She offered to connect me with a pharmacist so I could discuss the repercussions of being off medication when I responded a little louder than I intended, “I know exactly what the repercussions are, pain and stiffness.” At which point, it became almost impossible for me to continue talking at all. I thanked her for her assistance very formally and hung up the phone. I lowered my head into my hands began loudly sobbing.
And that is when the fight began.
As I wept, my inner critic began assailing me.
“It is your own fault, you should have paid better attention to this. You are in pain because you failed to take care of everything promptly!”
The cruelty of that voice tore at my heart, but it also awakened my warrior.
“You will not place the blame on me”, I yelled back. “I mailed in the prescription, and the doctor’s office dropped the ball on responding to Medco promptly. You will not blame me for this.”
Another voice began, “Well, you should have taken the sample tablets when the doctor offered them.”
“Maybe you are right”, I offered, ” but at the time, I had over a sixty day supply of the tablets at home. So I thought I had enough, maybe I will remember this next time. It would be helpful if you remind me to take sample tablets when offered.”
I could feel the voices backing down; I had surprised them with the strength of my comeback. I could feel something else stirring within. I listened intently.
A small voice, almost hesitant, began softly, “It has been a long time since you cried like that in response to an unyielding institution?”
I began dabbing at my eyes gently, as I sat back trying to remember. I faintly remembered episodes like this when I was suffering from CFIDS. Suddenly the symptoms came into sharp relief, I was sore, stiff and moved to tears.
And the voice, a little louder now, began, “Yes, you do not normally cry in situations like this unless you are ill. Maybe it is not just that your prescription has been delayed.”
I checked in with my body, yes I have all the signs. I am sore, stiff and tired – I am coming down with the flu! The flu, only a simple case of the flu, thank the gods.
I prepared my special immune fortifying tincture and drank it down. An hour later I felt better. I thanked the voice for helping me. I asked her to continue to speak up and guide me. All day I drank fluids, rested and used the tincture.
Today, I am still a little sore. But today, I feel so much better and I am back to a level of health and well being where I can handle disappointments without falling completely apart.
I peek in the mirror every chance I get, so I can smile at the face smiling back at me. And today, I thank the gods that I finally learned which of the voices to listen to. I raise a toast in her honor. Ah, yes. All hail the voices in my head!
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This reminded me of something I wrote a few months ago: http://eoma-p.livejournal.com/36134.html
Could be the start of a fun adventure - whatever words you find that fit you best, may you be blessed for it!
Wish I could be there. Very well spoken.
Katrina,
I wish you all the blessings and power you need on your journey. Thank you for these words. It is good to remember that returning to work (and thus returning to grace) bring a chance for us all to rest and have joy.
Wishing you joy in the Work.
David
Dear Katrina- Thorn reposted your blog and happy am I. Your passion, always so immense, comes blowing out in these words. So akin to my own heart and soul that it makes me have a bittersweet smile.
The Storm is only now coming to the edges of our universe and yet it will sweep and consume all that is. In the end, our beautiful universe will be so much...more? Different? Complete? Who knows?
All I do know is my soul came here to witness and be part in this period. I cannot shrink from the work. I am here with you, fae sister!
Thought-provoking piece, Katrina. Thanks.
I don't know what to call myself either. In Pagandom, I've taken to referring to myself as a Witch at Large. In the interfaith world where I'm active, I call myself a Pagan. Sometimes I call myself an uppity woman or a Second Wave Feminist. I've never really thought to publicly identify myself by my sexuality, het woman, which is very "white bread" and old-fashioned. Not only het, but serially monogamous for the most part. It seems almost a liability these days to say you're het, but I am proudly and happily so. I tend towards intellectualism but only have a BA, which doesn't carry much weight, at least in public and professional worlds, no matter how much you've studied, trained, and can articulate, even teach.
My biological heritage is Irish, Dutch, French Huguenot, Euro-mongrel. My social heritage is Roman Catholic on one side and conservative Methodist, temperance-crusading, women's rights and education on the other, with distinct East Coast sensibilities, now mellowed by more than half a century living on the Left Coast. My maternal political heritage is conservative Republican (altho what my relatives might think of current trends in the GOP I cannot imagine, since they did have brains and they did think and they did have a social conscience), yet I am much farther left in my outlook than any elected official I know. My paternal political heritage is blue collar Democratic, except that my dad broke with his family on politics and allied with my mother's family's conservatism.
I'm a former hippie, a home-birth advocate, a home death and green burial advocate, an opponent of capital punishment and resorting to warfare to resolve humankind's differences. I support the right to conscious self-deliverance. I rejoice in any and all consensual expressions of love and eros. I'm a lover and a mom.
I have never missed voting in an election and I disrespect those who don't avail themselves of this hard-won right. (I have ancestors who fought the Brits in the American Revolution.) I support workers' rights. I recognize our interdependence on this planet, so could be called a greenie. I'm a committed environmentalist in my day-to-day life (in terms of eating locally grown food, expanding public transit, recycling, preserving open space and wildlife, opposing exploitation of natural resources [strip mining, oil-drilling, nuclear facilities, agribusiness, monocultures, clear-cutting timber, overuse of pesticides, genetic modification, etc.]) I want to make the city streets "safe for dancing," as my old friend Tony Serra said when he ran for mayor of SF on the Platypus Party ticket.
Well, you got me going there, my friend. Thought-provoking read, as I said. ;-)
xo,
Macha