Seizure: what this body keeps teaching me in a thousand big a little ways

On Monday morning I had a seizure.

In life I have seldom settled into the inherent vulnerability of being human, nor acknowledged, with any kind of grace, the burning desire to be cared for and nurtured by “other”. I have diligently cultivated self-sufficiency, independence, competence and strength. I have given to others with abandon but found receiving difficult and receiving nurturance nigh impossible.

That approach to life no longer feeds me.

It is as necessary to accept care and to receive it, as it is to pour it forth in giving. Crying in my Godfather’s arms after the shock wore off, attended by a warm tropical breeze and the songs of Hawaiian birds and water, in a home so beautiful that it belongs on the cover of Dwell magazine, I felt safe and cared for. Not just by a beloved human other but by the whole of life. And all of Life seemed to be whispering softly and caringly within the grace of its own mystery, “I’ve got you. You are okay.”

In its own unique way the body with its heart procedures, head injury, seizure and quirks offers an opportunity to embrace human vulnerability and the long silenced desire to be cared for and to RECEIVE. All of this on an island in the Pacific Ocean, surrounded by unspeakable beauty, cradled by aloha and an unparalleled sense of “It is okay. It is all okay”.

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tree digging

Yes, I know it doesn't look like much. It was only about 5 inches in diameter and 8 feet tall. The root ball was no more than 3 feet deep. But it was a sweet red-bud tree that we planted the year Bodhi was born, his placenta was buried in it's roots and like many of the trees in our neighborhood, it died (see this post to understand why) . I can't say that I mourned its death in a tangible way, rather it produced in me a sort of unnameable melancholy. I am a woman who loves the spring. I nearly live for it. When the first signs of life emerge like a haze of hope, I drink in green with the passion of a desert crawling woman sipping at an oasis. I gorge. This year has been hard. Our neighborhood isn't leafing out in native splendor, instead the tired trees seem to begrudge the effort, only offering a tender shoot or bud occasionally. The north side of many trees appear to have given up all together, too tired after a long winter...

Coraggio

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the way of the sunflower

A few weeks ago, I sat holding a sunflower seed in my hand, just prior to the mouth popping, mastication phase, when it's perfect elegance floored me. I stared in awe at the tiny seed nestled in my palm and saw it, in all of it's possibility, for the first time. A flower, a million seeds, a million flowers. Each unique, each the same. And suddenly I was dumbfounded by the arrogance of human. A small seed, with no big beefy brain to catalogue, categorize, prioritize, conceptualize, quantify, qualify, justify and deify, had within it the flower it could become. Dissect the seed and there's no flower, nor any glimmer of the life that will unfold when the seed surrenders to soil, light, water. I wondered. What arrogant assuming is it, to think, with our over indulged brains and narcissistic lens of "self", that we need "do", "think", "struggle", "fight", "hustle", "cajole" and otherwise dance our way...

angelbirdflies

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