Coming Full Circle

Life moves in circles and cycles. It's a simple fact, but sometimes we forget. Until something happens that shakes us out of our stupor.

This morning I opened an email from the East Bay Artists Guild. The email had an attachment, an entry form for the Guild's upcoming winter show. I remember hearing something about it several months ago, but it hadn't piqued my interest then.

When I opened the attachment, I saw the universe at work. The show is taking place at the Aspen Surgery Center, the very part of the hospital where I had my surgery this summer. I remember walking down the long hallway toward the waiting room, seeing the art on the walls, and thinking, "My photos would look good in here."

And so we come full circle. I am entering three of my photographs, including the one above, into the show. My photos will hang on those walls. I suppose I'm giving back a little beauty to the place that played a vital role in my healing.

Facing Fear

I've had a lot of time to think these last nine days and it is amazing what you can learn about yourself when you step back from the world for a bit.

I learned I'm not as introverted as I thought. I'm a bit stir crazy and I miss being around people. I'm tired of my house and I want to see the world again. Hopefully I'll be up for a drive to a park later today.

I learned that I need to have more fun. I fear I've become bland from too much school and work and I need to play. For me that looks like reading fiction, for one. Over the course of the last week I finished five books, all but one fiction, and the non-fiction was a Bill Bryson travel memoir, which comes close to fiction with his exaggeration and hyperbole.

Fun also includes watching movies. I am in love with cinema and part of me dreams of working on some kind of movie some day. Maybe helping create a documentary. Or writing a screenplay that becomes an animated film created by Lance. That would be cool.

I need more time to frolic in nature, to break out my camera and tinker with my loaned Lensbaby, to mess around with my paints and charcoal. If you've been reading my blog for a while, or if you remember Feisty Scribe, you've heard this refrain before. I think, however, that the surgery finally got me through my block about this.

But the biggest thing I learned this week relates to Fear. That nasty little monster, pussy-eyed and warty, sneaks up on me regularly and laughs maniacally in my ear. He whispers the most vile things to me, making my heart pound. I saw him quite a lot this week.

However, here's what I figured out, and it seems so damn simple when I write it: Fear is worse than the thing I'm afraid of. Fear is worse! Fear, with his foul breath, his razor-sharp tail, his disgusting crusty claws. He is worse than anything else. Worse than the doctor. Worse than surgery. Worse than pain. Worse than spiders and bankruptcy and failure and all those other things that plague my thoughts.

Fear was with me in pre-op. I was so nervous my body turned to ice and the nurse had to warm up my arm so she could give me the IV. My heart raced along like it was trying to win the Kentucky Derby. I gulped the air and tried to slow everything down so I could relax. When they finally wheeled me into the operating room, though, I knew there was no turning back. I had to face this surgery. (Of course, it did help that the anesthesia took over soon after.)

When I woke up dazed and dizzy in the recovery room, I wanted to shout with joy. I'd made it! I'd faced one of my biggest fears and I lived through it. Wow.

This is going to be my new mantra: Fear is worse and there is nothing I can't handle. Nothing. I can make it through whatever this life throws at me. And even better, I can come out the other side feeling stronger than before.

Twenty-twenty-twenty-four hours to go...I'm gonna be sedated

Tomorrow's the big day. I arrive at noon and go into surgery around 1:15 p.m.

I feel ready. I have spent the last four days resting, relaxing, reading, and keeping stress at bay. I had a fabulous reading on my surgery at Intuitive Way on Friday, and was told that everything will go well. I know this in my heart. I'm going to waltz in there with my pink and purple plush uterus and ovaries from I Heart Guts and face this with bravery and strength.

I have felt overwhelmed by the love, support, kind words, and offers of help I've received from the people around me, and that alone is enough to get me through this experience.

I plan to be offline for the next two weeks while I recover. But I'll be sure to let you know how it all went when I return.

Deep Listening

The weeks leading up to my surgery have coincided with a class I'm taking called Body Consciousness, Body Wisdom. It is an appropriate class, to say the least. I had a lot of resistance coming into the class at the beginning of the quarter, though. I avoided taking it last year because it did not sound like something I wanted to experience. Getting in touch with my body? No thanks.

As it happens, this class was just what I needed in many ways. The irony of the situation does not escape me -- I needed to be in a class about body consciousness during one of the most difficult body experiences of my life so I could gain tools for dealing with the situation.

One wonderful tool I have learned is listening to body parts. This happens in a few ways and they can work together. First, you can work with how the part feels in relation to the other parts of your body. During this exercise, I chose to listen to my left ovary and the cyst around it. I laid on my back and felt into the space the ovary and cyst occupy. I moved this way and that, sensing how the ovary and cyst felt differently when I moved. I discovered the ovary and cyst became aggravated when I laid on my left side. To me, this meant that they did not want to be covered up, they did not want to be under pressure, and they did not want to be pushed down. As soon as I rolled onto my back, they felt much better.

Of course, the messages the ovary and cyst sent were not trivial. I know now that my ovaries are precious. They are part of the physical and energetic center of my creativity and sexuality. Listening to them will mean a great shift in my life. Pushing them down, covering them up, and putting them under pressure to perform can no longer work.

Another exercise I found rewarding in the Body Consciousness class was creating a movement in response to listening to a body part. In this exercise I chose my throat, which represents my ability to speak my truth. First, we created a physical movement that represented how the part feels in present time. Then, we asked the part what it wanted to say, or how we could bring about change. For me, the movement included both strength and fluidity. The message? I can be strong in speaking my truth, but also gentle. Practicing this will be a challenge, but now I have a movement I can physically reproduce to remind myself that this is how my voice wants to express itself.

I recommend doing either of these exercises whenever you are curious about the messages your body is sending you. Find a quiet place, relax, center yourself, and then ask a body part to speak. If you are doing the first exercise, move in different ways to see how the body part feels in different positions. You may find one position is more comfortable than another. Get curious about this and ask the body part what it is telling you. Or, don't do any movements at all. Just listen to what the body part has to say. Either way can be powerful.

Of course, there is one caveat: these exercises can go deep quickly. Sometimes it is necessary to speak with a professional about what comes up, because the things our bodies want to tell us are sometimes shocking and difficult to hear. But this dialogue is always rewarding in the end.

Healing Strategies

My surgery is set for August 11, so I have two weeks now to prepare. During the last week I have explored many options to help me through surgery and recovery. I feel incredibly lucky to have friends and colleagues who have given me a wealth of ideas.

One resource landed right in my lap: my friend Lisa brought me a CD produced by Kaiser Permanente called Preparing for Successful Surgery. The CD, created by Belleruth Naparstek, has led to reduced anxiety, more successful surgery, and less pain after surgery even after listening once (read a study done on the CD here). It includes three parts: guided imagery to prepare for surgery, a series of affirmations, and guided imagery for healing. I've listened to the CD twice already and I can attest that it dramatically reduces anxiety and has helped me manage my pain. I am considering asking to listen to the CD during surgery, something Bellaruth suggests on the CD.

Another practice I'm utilizing is healing through dreams. This happens in several ways and I've experienced a couple of them. The night after finding out I had to have surgery, I dreamed that my one-year-old nephew (who turned one the day I found out about the surgery) was healing me with his hands. It was a powerful and uplifting dream.

That same night, an amazing elephant came to me in a dream. The elephant petted my head and face and I awoke with an incredible sense of calm and love.

A few nights later, I dreamed of a beautiful macaw perched on my right arm, and a cockatoo perched on my left arm. The two flew off, swooping down over the canopy of an immense rainforest and crossing paths before disappearing into the greenery. When I awoke I consulted Ted Andrew's Animal Speak and learned that macaws are a symbol of healing for some South American groups.

So now I have two new healing allies: the elephant and the macaw. I can return to these dreams at any time to gain further healing or work with the energies of elephant and macaw. I can also call on owl, hawk, and bear, my main dream allies to help with healing. I am a novice at dream healing, though, and I would like to learn more about this technique.

The third piece of my healing practice involves buying a plush uterus and ovaries from the fabulous I Heart Guts. It is a humorous move that will inject fun into my healing, and it also holds meaning for me. I know if I can hug an adorable representation of my female parts it will help me send those parts love and healing.

Another strategy for me is performing a ritual to honor the cyst and its message. In this ritual I will thank the cyst for bringing wisdom and send it energy for successful removal. I look at the surgery as a kind of birth; the cyst representatives my creative energy and the trauma I've stored within me for years. When the cyst is removed, my creativity will be unleashed in a new way, and, on one level, the trauma will be released.

I also plan to have a reading and healing done at Intuitive Way the weekend before my surgery. The readers will look at my energy and also the mock-up (or intention) I have for how the surgery will go. I hope I'll be in a really good place by then as a result of listening to the guided imagery CD. After the reading, I'll get a healing on my aura, chakras, and sexual organs. With that under my belt, I should be ready to go!

With all of these strategies available to me, I feel more secure about my ability to handle and recover quickly from this surgery. If you have any additional thoughts or suggestions, please let me know.