Turning Down the Sound

Philadelphia

I find this healing period difficult. The balance between interaction, work, and rest is not proportional. Well, it is not proportional to my notion of my day to day life. Everything is in slow motion. Behavior is dictated by an internal, relentless process that demands my ear. "Do too much and you will pay" says the relentless voice.

I am constantly reminded of my vulnerability, my reliance on my body's own timeframe. In effect, my intellect is held hostage by my body. My will is forced to be subjugated to the bullying demands of fatigue, pain, listlessness.

Descartes, the great believer in the mind-body duality would love my description. Unfortunately, what I am searching for in my deepest gut is the zen, the mind/body one-ness that creates balance, the belief in slowing down my mind to embrace the vulnerability, allow the healing. And to put it bluntly, it sucks.

I'm reminded of training for the marathon, the exact opposite of this physical task. And yet I know that the metaphor is the same. The same fear of not doing enough fast enough is replaced with the fear of doing too much too fast--and the consequences.

I don't have any answers. Each day I wake ( or get up if I've been sleepless ) and come down to my living room. I sit in the rocker until the sun rises, grateful for the day I've been given, the light with all its hope. Each day I try new ways to be still,
to be patient. To just be.

Yesterday, I planted pansies that my dear young helper, Elizabeth, bought. " What colors do you want, Miss Mary," she asked, her dark eyes earnest. "Purple," I replied instantly.

Purple. The color of the heart chakra, the color of vestments in the season of Lent to remind the faithful of waiting, of fasting, of the desert.

I've taken to drawing a Rune, the ancient Scandinavian practice every morning as my meditation, my morning prayer. Each of the twenty five runes has its own sign and its own meaning. It is some comfort in this time of imposed isolation in the hope that the practice will help me find the grace to use this time well.

Today's rune was Uruz, the rune of strength, of new beginnings. "Learn to adapt yourself to the demands of such a creative time. Seek among the ashes and discover a new perspective and a new birth."

The pansies stand like sentries outside my window. And I wait.

M.C.