Reticence and My Growing Edge

I am currently struggling with my inner preference for reticence. It may seem odd that a person who lives portions of her inner dialogue out loud would prefer to keep her thoughts to herself. But the truth is that I often write more openly than I would share in person. Because in the present moment, I tend to keep my thoughts to myself … unless I am teaching.

But what I am learning is that my reliance on reticence no longer serves me. I am keeping too much out of my daily conversations. I am forcing myself to say more out loud, especially those things that I thought was self-evident. And what I am discovering is that they were only self-evident to me. And this revelation is brutally startling.

I am having a really rough time with this practice. As part of my process, I feel a need to express certain ideas so I can relax my resistance. So the next few posts may be a bit raw as I empty out some of the issues that really bother me.

So consider this post a public service announcement.

Posted in

Submitted by katrina on Wed, 04/21/2010 - 6:43pm.

The Wounded Warrior

I have been having a real tough time recently, as evidence by my last post. What I had not mentioned was the problems with my shoulders. They keep getting stuck. My massage therapist, chiropractor and intuitive healer have all been working mightily to get them moving again. But each time I show up for a visit, my left shoulder especially is stuck again. Which is strange because I can get in my car after a session where one healer worked hard getting it moving, and drive to the next healer only to find the shoulder stuck again! It was maddening!

So today, my yoga instructor Carrie, per her usual synchronicity, invoked Shiva for our session. And at some point we were doing a rather oddly strenuous version of the Warrior II pose where we were thrusting one hip out while turning the other in a vastly differing direction. When we came out of the pose, rubbing our inner thighs and our aching hip joints, someone asked for the name of the pose. Carrie sheepishly sort of laughed and said, “We call it the Wounded Warrior.” And suddenly something clicked in my head.

Later during savasana, I asked Carrie if she could check my shoulders for me. I explained the problems I had been having as she bent over to adjust them. She suddenly looked very concerned as she found the same nodule everyone else had been working on over the last two months. She looked me in the eye as she said, “Katrina, that knot is directly behind your heart.” “What is happening with your heart?” She looked deeply worried and her concern struck me right where it mattered. I said, “Oh … yeah!” What else could I say? She helped my shoulders to relax with what to me looked like eyes on the verge of tears.

Later after picking up some special items from Trader Joes, I stopped for a visit to Sligo Creek Park. I hadn’t visited in so long, and the bright sun reminded me of why I love that park. I walked to the bridge and paused to listen to the waters. I breathed deeply as I crossed the bridge; it felt like coming home.

And that is when I noticed all the damage. Several of the trees had lost branches; some had lost major limbs. It was devastating. One poor young tree had been split in two, exposing her delicate inner structure to the wind and the rain.

I paused at each wounded tree and expressed my deep sympathy and grief for its loss. Touching my hands where I could over the open wounds, connecting to the still living trunks, I expressed my hopes and prayers for recovery.

At the poor tree ripped asunder, I expressed my sorrow and I could feel her respond. I reminded her that her life was not over, as long as she could still feel her roots in the soil and take in nourishment from the sun and rain, she could still grow and thrive. I asked the older trees, especially those who themselves were wounded to tell this young tree about how life could continue. And to tell her especially that she would live not in spite of her wounding, but now more because of her wounds.

As I sat down to rest a bit before returning to my car, something broke apart inside of me. I suddenly felt all that had been wrenched away from me. I could see all my inner preciousness and vulnerabilities exposed to the elements. And just as suddenly I began sobbing. My poor shoulders were trembling with each wave of tears. As I sat in my misery, I suddenly heard voices. It was the trees repeating back to me all I said to comfort the youngest of them.

“You will live on not in spite of your wounding, but because of them.”

Now a new wave of sobs erupted shaking my entire frame. I cried and cried until I didn’t even care who saw it. I cried until I no longer could hide my sadness or repress my grief.

Yeah, there was something going on in my heart. This wounded warrior was carrying a lot of unexpressed grief. Grief I now know that must be expressed and cared for in the now and not stored in my body.

As I left the park, I expressed my deep gratitude to the trees. And to all my healers and teachers, I say Namaste.

Posted in

Submitted by katrina on Thu, 03/04/2010 - 3:49pm.

My Aching Body

I have been thinking a lot lately about my physical body. Mostly I‘ve been drawn to the muscle aches, the noisy joints and the areas that feel heavy when I wake from sleeping for almost 12 hours a night. My body is a veritable symphony of sounds, stories and complaints.

I thought that my diagnosis of Fibromyalgia along with CFIDS, and the resulting pain meds, all my troubles would be over. I had thought that pain was all that held me back. But then the fatigue portion kicked into first place. And despite what my Rheumatologist thinks, I am not just tired because I am not exercising. I was exercising just fine up to the fibro-roulette routine that subjected me to a host of differing mind numbing, fog inducing, homicidal raging meds. Cymblata stops the raging burning pain all over my body, thank the gods. But the process that brought me to this point ruined most of my nurturing routines.

So now I begin the process of rebuilding my radical self-care from the ground up. I have done this so many times before, I should be used to it by now – but it is still teary eyed difficult and it still makes me want to run and hide. And it also does not help to be fighting off a nasty cold just weeks after a stomach turning flu and let's not forget the winter to rule them all.

So I have restarted my at home yoga practice, again. I am hoping next week that it will get warm enough for me to walk, again. It is awfully hard to walk when all your lower joints go pop and click with each step. I feel like I need to add a new line to the Wizard of Oz saying -- y’know, “… a heart, a brain, a home, the nerve … some knee cartilage!”

Yikes! I feel way too frail to be only 54 years old. I keep telling myself, that the strength, flexibility and endurance I built up last year will make it easier this time. And I already can tell it is true. My yoga practice still feels good; I just need to rebuild it back up slowly to the spring/summer levels of almost daily practice. And who knows, I may be back to multiple walks a week by April.

I just have to be present with the now. And that is the most difficult thing for me. Because “right now” feels very frail, tentative and sleepy to me. So I am left at giving myself pep talks, and tricking myself into seeing the bright side -- which on these dark days is a real stretch.

So today, after a massage, a chiro appointment, a hair cut, a PO Box check, an ATM deposit and a grocery run, all I could do was write this rant before delving into my back to back Assisi conference calls. I only got 6 hours sleep last night, half of what I apparently needed every other day this week. I will probably have the same amount of sleep tonight as well. Sigh …

I know loads of other people who are having a way harder time than I am, but damn … I sure could use some sun sometime soon. Can someone put an order in for me? Thanks.

Posted in

Submitted by katrina on Wed, 03/03/2010 - 6:27pm.

Weariness in the World

Aside from the return of my Seasonal Affective Disorder, I have noticed a deep fatigue, no more like weariness, overcoming me. Last year I was struggling under an avalanche of work. And although I may have more items on my to do list than possibly a few small countries, I am not by any measure under the same amount of pressure as last year.

So why am I so tired?

I have plenty of answers. Like most folks, I can rationalize just about anything. But the answers I come up with are raising further questions. If this is simply the Chronic Fatigue portion of my illnesses, why did the pain mask it all this time? If this is the fatigue portion of my Fibromyalgia, how come I did not feel it during the summer and early fall? And if it is SAD, why is it not lifting now that I am taking vitamin D like last year?

See … more questions … and no answers that bring closure.

So in today’s meditation, I decided to approach the issue differently. Was it my weariness that really bothered me? And surprisingly, the answer was no. What actually bothered me the most was my inability to do much work. I was upset more by my leaving items unchecked than being tired.


A part of me is filled with anxiety because … I *should* be working. So I sat with that anxiety and listened with compassion. I still have no answers, but somehow … almost inexplicably … it’s okay.


Posted in

Submitted by katrina on Fri, 10/30/2009 - 6:19pm.

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