Sitting with Sadness

Sadness breaches the glassy stillness
like a humpback who has been traveling
for miles without a breath

again, you return
or is it only more
from where the last tsunami
came?

from a different epicenter, perhaps
or maybe the same
does it matter?
it all seems to wear the same coat
of desperation, of pain that is indescribable
because of its depth and
lack of physicality

"I don't know how you do it" he says
in reference to the needles and the burning
and the ropes and the beatings
that I mention, I request, I crave.
I said I didn't know either
but on second thought, of course I do.

Where emotional pain can be made physical
there is relief in the knowledge
that all things physical can and will pass.
There is a palpable
beginning
middle
end

Not the continuous breaching
of drowning whales.

There is grace in trusting the process of
emrging emotional pain into the physical.
Grace in trusting another with your body, your process, your pain.
Grace in trusting enough to be held, and
Grace in recollecting yourself when the container gives in under the pressure.
We are all only human, after all,
and some of us push harder than others.
Some of us go deeper than others.
Some of us expand greater than others.
Some of us are too loud, even for our own comfort.

It is grace that can hold us.
It is the ocean and the sky that can take it
that can hold us all.

Sadness enjoys the writing. It is learning to paint with words.
It is learning to leak gently out in small manageable breaths.

So on the surface, I may seem sadder longer.
But perhaps this time, you won't be frightened off by the explosion,
cowering in your own fears of inadequacy,
thinking "Shit, I can't hold THAT!"
Instead you can be quietly concerned in your own spare time,
stroking your ego into thinking that you may have something to offer.

Just to let you know,
I will take what is useful.
I take care of my own.

I trust myself.
I trust my process.
I trust that the label of "Crazy" exists for your benefit, not mine,
to make you comfortable and separate from what you long to ignore...

...but more on that, later.

Labeling makes Sadness even sadder.
It shows Sadness unacceptance.
It shows Sadness that you acknowledge her
as something incomprehensible, unacceptable, wild.
Boo on labeling, especially the label of Crazy.

Ouchness.

Sadness, what else would you like to share with the world?
Yikes, fear? Brokenheartedness? I am so gentle and fierce
I am so many dualities, all crossing in the center.
I am seeking integration between grief and love.
I am confused, getting tripped up in the process,
when I stumble, and hit the ground, I cry out of frustration.
Seeking flow and grace and a peaceful heart.
I pray, I stand up, I keep moving.

My life is full
of processing.
The large, complicated doughnut that I am.

Please don't fret, Mom.
Please. Have faith in me and my process.
Sadness is not a death sentence, like it seemed to be a decade ago.
You have raised such a strong, committed, loving daughter.
I may do things with my life that you would never imagine or wish for me,
but it is mine to live, and I follow only the voice of Spirit
and our ancestors.

Sadness mingles with Love and Grace on occasion,
when she is well enough to receive visitors.
They share a laugh and a good cup of tea,
in light and peaceful laziness.

It is 11:11. Think happy thoughts.

Movement

"God, I love my life."

That's what I hollered at the moon last night. Repeatedly.

Ryan and I pulled off an incredible gathering for the student body in the backyard last night, complete with heaps of food, a keg of Red Menace, and the sweet sweet spins of DJ Manos. What a joy to see the young blossoming doctors of tomorrow whooping and swirling, gyrating and letting go, being in love with being completely human. Good medicine indeed.

Classes for the upcoming quarter:

The Official "How-to-be-a-Doctor" class (ie Physical/Clinical Diagnosis) - we learn to use all our doctor toys and take a history and do physical exams, etc.

Homeopathy - the bells, whistles, fireworks and gongs of serendipity totally went off for me during my first class. A total shocker: after what the last group had to say about it, I was all geared up to completely hate that class. But I listen up when serendipity chimes in...stay tuned.

Medicinal Mushrooms - We get to go tromping through the woods, pick mushrooms, nerd out and ID them, and then we get to eat them. How much more fun could that be?

Naturopathic Manipulation 2 - YAY Physical Medicine class! Anything that gets me back in my body, and teaches me how to assist others with the same is A-O-K with me. Plus, the teacher would make a nice....well, let me not finish that thought out loud.

Counseling - Did someone say Story-time? I dig. I dig very much.

Normal Maternity - This is a button-pusher for me. There's gotta be one every quarter. I am of the sheltered upbringing that pregnant women are scary, unpredictable, fragile, and possessed. That still doesn't keep me from kissing, cooing, and snuggling up to their baby bubbles every chance I get. I love to whisper to the new life inside that there is hope waiting for them out here. eh. Yet another tremendous opportunity to stretch and grow.

....AND that's it! A whopping 17 credits, my lightest load ever in two years. Now I have the time to stretch and delve into all those long-buried extra-curricular interests, such as political activism, good dance, and kink. A sober girl's got to find something to burn off some steam.

Ryan and I are off to get our groove on @ the UnitedSouls/InnerFlight shindig. Hopefully, TM and I can meet up this week. And the movement continues...