Month: August 2012

(TMI warning: I talk about my cervix, and a recent assault on it, in this post… if that sounds unpleasant to you, you may want to skip the section I’m labeling “TMI” below)

you’ve heard this wisdom, no?

before enlightenment, chop wood carry water; after enlightenment, chop wood carry water

Well, now you have.  I think it’s pretty self explanatory, but if you need to know more you can pretend that google is the same as “Ask Jeeves”used to be like I always do.  (what is Ask Jeeves?  Why, it’s your personal internet butler of course!)

After that search I realize I may not agree with the google answer to the question.  To me, this wisdom is about recognizing that “enlightenment” or progress on the soul/spiritual path doesn’t change the nature of life on earth.  The basics must always be addressed… if there’s going to be firewood and water, you’re going to have to chop and carry it.

I’ve had an interesting week (and it’s only Wednesday!).  On Monday I arrived at the OBGYN and had an unexpected colposcopy in response to an abnormal pap. I was tended to by Dr. Wonderful who was extremely thorough and relatable and conscientious and just all around great.  She explained that the colposcopy was going to check out my cervix under different lights and magnification to see if there was anything of any significance that they’d want to biopsy (she doubted that she would because my abnormal results were pretty profoundly insignificant) and I was going to get to watch the whole procedure on a TV screen above my head (awesome!  i love stuff like that.  i was totally bummed when the mirror got kicked out of the way when I was giving birth).  

not my cervix.  mine is much prettier. i wish i had taken a picture.

TMI begins: So, I lie there for 30 minutes while i watch her assault (all the while being quite friendly and encouraging) my poor cervix from every angle.  She swabbed, she poked, she jabbed, she smudged…  and then despite the fact that my pap results were profoundly insignificant she wanted to biopsy 7 places.  7.  That’s 7 more than nothing.  

Then, I watched (what under the super magnification looked like) giant metal jaws take juicy bites out of my poor, sweet cervix…  And all of this was fascinating at the time  because I was forcing myself to see it that way.

She was still certain that it was all nothing, she would call me in a week with the results and I should prepare to hear that everything is fine and the tissue she took is just scarring from a previous HPV infection–no biggie/all adventurous girls have it.  (by the way, she called this afternoon–2 days, not a week, later–and everything is absolutely fine.  all clear.  so basically she just left my cervix looking like it had been attacked by jungle animals for fun…)

end of TMI

Later that day I finally realized  it was okay for her to be wonderful, for the view to be fascinating, and for me to still be traumatized.  So, there I was… triggered, with a nagging pain in my belly… sending love to my cervix and quite taken with exactly how fucked up a headspace I had gotten into by the end of it all.

Lucky for me (and all of you!) I knew this had little to do with the procedure in the doctor’s office.  The blog post I wrote on Monday isn’t one I wanted to write.  Shortly before writing it I realized I was GRUMPY.  Super duper grumpy.  Super awful rotten sauce grumpy–I have to blog but I have nothing to say so I’m just not going to do it grumpy…  until the little voice said “this is a sign that you should definitely be writing tonight.  go.  it’ll be okay.”

and it was!  I am really happy with what came out!  I love the experience of sitting down completely resistant and uninspired and then ending up with something I feel connected to.  I was so happy that I listened to the little voice and I went to bed completely aware that the great writing experience was not the resolution to the grumpiness but was probably a shaking loose of a block that was holding back something…

I woke up even crankier  and I could tell I was feeling really ugly and nasty about the whole OBGYN experience… but I also knew that couldn’t be what this was really about… and I wanted to know what was underneath all of it.  So, I sat in the discomfort and waded through all the negative self talk and shame about not being more on top of my health and all the other ugliness that came up.

and finally… after a day of trying to keep myself out of my head and luring myself into my heart (by snuggling in a blanket/shawl, curled up in my desk chair, with my head resting on the back all morning in conference calls at work, favorite thai noodles via a sunshiney walk at lunch, first sorting into Roy G Biv order/then consuming peanut m&ms, and finally ranting/bawling to Angry Wombat over the phone) I found myself in a safe enough to place to recognize what’s beneath the triggers I experienced

after being confronted with this truth i thought a lot yesterday about what “work” I was going to do to start healing some of this resentment and i came up with ideas like talking to myself in the mirror and writing down the things older versions of me had “done” and then forgiving them… but i decided that all of that is still too much.  

Instead, for today (starting small), I was not going to do anything I didn’t feel like doing (unless of course doing it was essential to keep my job, home, or parental status).  So, even though I paid to be a part of the Chakra Photo Project, if I don’t feel like reading the emails and taking the photos, I’m not going to (because what’s really more important, $60 or my sanity? besides the opportunity to participate doesn’t go away when the class ends, I’ll just be doing it on my own)…  If I don’t feel like doing the Compassion Course reading, I’m not going to.  If I don’t feel like reading the Receiving Project emails and setting intentions for the day, I’m not going to.  If I don’t feel like doing any work that will uncover more old stuff, I’m not going to.  I’m not going to be actively trying to make progress on any personal projects… I’m just going to be.  I’m going to take care of myself, my kid, and my relationships… and I’m going to do that for as long as I need to do it to feel the glimmer of motivation to engage in something outside of myself again.  And when I do, I’m not going to try and “catch up” on anything I’ve missed… I’m going to start where I left off and maintain my own pace, or I’ll just skip something (and only go back later if I feel like it).  It’s probably a pendulum swing in the opposite direction and isn’t the balance I’m looking for in the long run, but it’s where I’m going to start.  

maybe you watch RuPaul’s drag race and you’ve heard that you have to love yourself before you’re ever going to be able to love anybody else…  or maybe you went/go to church every Sunday and you’ve heard that you must love “God” first… what if I told you those were the same thing?  Would you be willing to get on board with that?  Maybe try it on for size a few minutes every day?

On Sunday, I went to a “Create & Connect” coffee talk and I went into the event fully expecting that it would lead me to a way to be of service…  That’s kind of a new thing for me: consciously making an expectation based on an instinct.  In the wake of realizing exactly how powerful I am I’ve started looking for places where what I believe can create a reality that I experience.  That effort, combined with an openness to possibility is really opening my heart to how incredible this life can feel.

Back to the story… so I read in the RSVP confirmation for the event that one of the speakers, Seane Corn, was a HIV/AIDS activist and I had been longing for a way to connect to that helping community that was more than donning a t-shirt to hand out water to people who show their support and heighten awareness by walking the streets of Los Angeles.

I have this little smidge of self judgment about this.  A little inner critic who asks “what makes you think you could be helpful there… you think just because your father died of AIDS you are somehow a part of this community?”  Um.  Yeah, actually. (duh)  But thanks for asking, asswipe…

Again, back to the story… so, I thought to myself “self, this is it.  this is where you’re going to get some direction about where to go to be of service.”  Seane was a brilliant speaker with a tremendous story about (still trying to) surrender to the reality that the work must be done within if we are ever to be effective at making the world a place more connected to its innate love.  I was moved to tears on more than one occasion that morning.  And when she talked about the organizations she works with (YouthAIDS and OFF THE MAT INTO THE WORLD) I was excited to learn about the unique and powerful impact they were making and I sent myself an email to remind me to seek information about how to involve myself in one or both.

Still, something wasn’t quite right.  Something wasn’t quite living up to my expectation and I wasn’t going to decide that forming one in the first place was a problem… So what was going on?  Instead of feeling the thrill of discovering how the universe would grant my wish (’cause I know what that feels like now–woot woot!) I was noticing a lot of stories forming.  I know I’m not supposed to decide to “be” the person I’ve just met and ardently admire…  I was resisting that old impulse and instead I was getting that I wasn’t going to be able to have an impact because I have a son and I can’t take off to Cambodia whenever I want… No one would care what I had to say because I didn’t have stories about moving to New York City at 17, binging on drugs, and finding god in a gay sex club called Heaven.  These stories were not an indication that I was being pointed in a new direction…  These stories are NOT what it feels like to discover what the universe had in mind for me…  These stories were pretty reminiscent of the olden days of Kate’s head and were not welcome to stick around for long.

Normally I’m not an advocate for “stuffing” of feelings or stories, but in this case that’s what I did.  I filed those reactions away for safekeeping so I could remain engaged because I knew that I was going to get something from this and it wasn’t that.

that’s you.  you did that.

Seane finished speaking and Nicole, the event organizer/creator spoke…  She mentioned that they usually closed these monthly talks asking everyone to contribute in service to something (oh!  here it is!  yay!  okay, I’m listening!) but in the spirit of Seane’s talk this morning and the reminder to do the work inside they had changed their plan–and that was the service they were going to ask us all to do: Go within and do the work.  Let that be the drop into the pool of water that creates the ripple.

And I’d be putting on a bit of a show if I said that I was instantly moved by this.  I heard her (and I heard myself groan on the inside…  really?  i already know that one.  i was looking for something new.  geez) but it didn’t sink in right away.  In fact, it didn’t sink in until today… this afternoon… worn out from a day of waiting at doctors appointments and battling spiderman to go to bed and worrying about what I was going to write about and whether it was okay that I was so off track with writing about abundance when it clicked…

and that’s what happens when i do it too.

Getting to hear that I’m on the right path… getting a little nudge to keep going… getting an energetic pep talk to reassure my spirit to carry on…  getting told that i’m never going to find what i seek if i search outside myself… and getting reminded that looking within IS still being of service.  As I continue to heal and grow and become more connected to my heart I become another ripple in the pond, meeting up with other ripples until eventually the pond is a tremendous ocean and the movement on the surface is a powerful wave, swelling and cresting toward the shore where it can meet itself and its match again over and over never questioning the repetitive nature of its existence…

So, there you have it (public service announcement: please understand what i’m saying.  please continue to volunteer your time to organizations who need you to provide the love they offer our world in need.  that way of being of service is one of the most effective ways to be connected to your loving core and takes ripples to waves in seconds flat), this month is about “plenty” or “abundance” and yes… money is rolling in too.  I got a surprise check in the mail, another was more than I expected, and money just keeps appearing… that was definitely part of the intention, but more than anything I have opened myself up to receiving and just like that… the gifts… just like the waves… keep coming.

and I ain’t about to question them.

and now if you’ll excuse me, I feel a cry coming on (probably those filed away stories from Sunday that I had forgotten until now) and I’m going to go let that happen (don’t worry, mom, it’s a good thing.  xo)

I love feeling safe, secure, and comfortable.  And being someone who knows that we’re “supposed” to embrace the unknown and not need to know the answers or the reasons for everything I have a significant reserve of self judgment that I apply to my own desire for security.

It’s silly, really (that was me judging my judgment.  that was awesome.).  Why wouldn’t I want to feel safe and comfortable?  Who doesn’t  want to feel safe and comfortable?  Sure, there are people who enjoy thrills more than I do.  If given the choice I would prefer the scenic walk over the roller coaster ride and the long term loving commitment over the freedom to date around.  My seratonin levels are generally low enough and adrenal system active enough that I can get a pretty significant rush from an everyday occurrence.  So, I’m on the sensitive side and these preferences of mine are not universal, but still… we all want to feel safe.  Safe just means different things to different people.

Being at the beginning of so many new things I notice that I feel concerned for my safety (emotional, to be clear) quite often.  It starts with a sensation… some level of activation in the body and depending on how effectively I respond that activation can dissipate and resolve and leave me feeling just as secure as before the sensation began.  Other times, however, I am distracted or trying to put off dealing with the feeling and it builds in energy and force until it feels like it’s taken over.  Then along with the sensation come the thoughts: self doubt, judgment, fear of loss…  and then I’m done for.  Actually, not really.  Then I still benefit from any of the self care measures I would have employed had I engaged the early intervention forces (a walk, writing, yoga, breathing, talking to a friend, etc.), but it takes a lot more energy to get there and I often find that I don’t want to put any energy out… it feels unsafe too.

After two weeks of coping with and steadily reducing the presence of the fear response bubbling up in the face of a new connection, I had an entire afternoon of terror earlier this week.  It was triggered by a connection with someone I hadn’t heard from in a while.. and without a moment to recognize what was happening: I was living in fear again.  And although I wouldn’t have called it this at the time, I recognized it right away: it was the same fear I used to feel when we were engaged in a close relationship…  except my brain (oh sweet brain, trying to protect me again and always fucking up…) didn’t limit the fear to that relationship.  Oh no!  Suddenly my brain was afraid of everything again.  Every loss I ever experienced came right back up and was applied to everything I longed for in the present.  No matter what it was that was just out of reach: a chance to go home and work on writing, a date with Devon the next day, a cleared out inbox…  all of them were suddenly impossibly far away.  Totally inaccessible.  I was trapped in a slow motion world; just me and my fear.

Every stumble, stressor, and significantly difficult life event has ended up being among the most enriching things in my life…  why can’t knowing that feel safe?

Because of everything I’ve lived I love and know myself better than I ever have before.  I know what I’m capable of and what I want.  I know what I have to offer and where and when to give it.  Why can’t knowing those things feel safe?

oh wait.  they do.

Okay cool.  I knew coming here to write it out would feel better.  Thanks for listening folks. 🙂

you may recall that I tossed out my bathroom scale…  and (as predicted) that’s when things started moving.  I have no idea how much I weigh or how much I’ve lost, but I have reached that milestone where my body has changed enough that I can dry everything on high in the dryer and not be bothered if anything shrinks.

I believe I promised pictures of me wearing sweatpants in public and feeling good about it despite how I may have looked in lieu of the monthly ass updates… which I don’t have many of because I usually don’t remember to take pictures of myself when I’m not feeling smokin’ hot.  but lucky for us all my hiking buddy captured this moment last weekend…

wow, that’s some hair

and it is the first time in my life I recall being photographed so sweaty in such clingy clothes where my main vanity is focused on my hair and not my body.  (little victory dance!)

and for hair posterity…

oh hello, pretty. 🙂

I’ve reclaimed my natural hair color and my signature red lips.  welcome back, kate.  we love you.  we missed you.  you’re welcome anytime.

ah, what a little self-love can do!