Mid Winter Hibernation & Healing

monarch butterfly

Varicose Veins are another of the delightful things I inherited from my Father – together with his nose, long, gaunt face, hair trigger temper and belief that I know best about all things.  There isn’t much I can do about my nose or the shape of my face, I have worked very hard on my arrogance, unasked for offering of advice and my anger and temper.  My personality has changed, but the physical attributes remained.  When I first saw myself in profile aged 15 I was devastated and begged my Mother for a nose job when I turned 18.  It never eventuated.

And after years of aching, itchy, legs and never being able to bare my legs in public in the summer, I decided to put myself in the hands of a vascular surgeon.  Luckily she was a lady and a nice one at that.  She listened to my horror of anaesthetics, scalpels and hospitals, and made me feel safe.

I went on a waiting list that was anticipated to be at least 6 months, and forgot about it.  Then came a phone call – could I commit to a slot in 10 days time as Wauchope Hospital had had a cancellation.  Ged agreed to be home and I grabbed it.  Better to be sick and wearing support stockings mid winter!  Then there was a huge debate about my refusal to have an epidural.  Some people are scared of flying, some of horses, some of heights – for me it is epidurals.  There’s no way anyone is going to stick a huge needle down into my spinal cord.  Ugh!

Finally the anaesthetist agreed to a General Anaesthetic for me and I was booked in.  Rather like childbirth, it is a good thing I had no idea what I was in for beforehand!

Up really early on the Friday morning and drove myself and JP to Wauchope, for him to drive the car back home.  Nil by mouth and all that, but clutching my thermos of tea for after the op.  The hospital was extremely efficient and everything happened very quickly.  I was first up so straight into the hospital gown, the anaesthetist came to meet me and I made him PROMISE not to do an epidural (!) and then the surgeon came to mark up my legs.  Quick as a flash I was in pre-theatre and needled and the next thing I knew I was out, freezing cold, teeth chattering and nurses flitting around me asking about pain and temperature and trying to stabilise me.  Then I was out in the day surgery warmth and drinking my tepid tea before staggering into the loo to get dressed.  In and out must be their motto because they rang Ged to come and take me away before lunch and he decided to take me straight home.

Of course I was flying from the anaesthetic for days.  We had our big mid-winter party on at the weekend so were surrounded by friends, and I mainly sat with my feet up in our newly configured sitting room, knitting. I even went for a walk on Saturday although that was pushing it!  I supped champagne and enjoyed being Queen for a few days.

When the drugs started wearing off my legs really ached and I wondered what on earth I had been thinking.  Then I really crashed with a temperature, throwing up and diarrhoea.  Not sure whether it was flu or opiate withdrawal.  Whatever, I was a groaning, shivering, blob under the duvet for 2 days.  Thank God Ged was there to keep the wheels turning while I hibernated.

It was great to be able to give in to my body’s demand for rest and recuperation, rather than forcing myself up to look after Ben, pushing myself beyond my limits as I have done so often over the last 5 years.

I knew when I decided to have my varicose veins ‘stripped’ that it was an outward, physical, manifestation of the inner work I have done over the last few years – letting go, forgiving, changing.  And in succumbing to the surgeon’s knife I was ripping out the old, outdated, gnarled and twisted that I no longer wanted or needed in my life.  Prescribing myself a new beginning.

Under the duvet I let go . . . I meditated on my last foray into a world of opiates and the heroin withdrawal I masterminded and oversaw for my friend.  I repeated silently to myself ‘I lovingly forgive and release the past’ as I slipped in and out of deep and dreamless sleep.

And I healed.  On all sorts of levels.  I rested.  I stopped cranking the handle and the world still turned . . . I gave myself permission to retreat, recuperate, be vulnerable and weak.  I let those who love me care for me and see the control freak felled to her knees – vulnerable and pathetic. It’s only me who has a problem with that!

And when I arose after my exile of travelling dark recesses of my soul and psyche and passaging in places of pain, I was different.  MUCH more relaxed, with my sense of humour returned to me (how I have missed you!), a sense of balance and proportion about work and play and a real readiness and willingness to listen to others, to learn at the feet of masters, and to give myself pleasure and nurture myself with the things and people I love.

And as I recognised that I needed to grow and change more, to journey along more challenging healing paths to the heart centre, I began to look for places and people to help me.  I found a book I have had since 2004 and have put off and off and off embarking on.  Sequel to the life changing ‘The Artist’s Way’ it is Julia Cameron’s ‘Vein of Gold’ which demands daily walks, morning pages and a voyage of self discovery through the trivialities, tedium and trauma of one’s past.

I pounced on the book like an old friend and readily committed to the journey.  Perfect winter work.  As we hibernate, heal, connect deeply with our most immediate family and friends and ourselves.   Mining ourselves for our riches, dreams and inspirations.  Plotting our futures and pathways to our goals as the winter winds howl and the cold scratches at the doors and windows with its icy fingers.

Winter is time for inner work and introspection, just as summer speaks of reaching out to friends and the world, partying and celebrating the warmth and fertility.  Just as the land sleeps and rests so must we.  It is good for me to finally learn to rest and not to be constantly questing, working, doing.  The seeds of deep change are being planted this wintertide, and despite my averse reaction to drugs, hospitals and surgery, I can see that science can complement metaphysics to effect deep change and transformation.

Will I submit for the other leg too . . .. ???!!!

The Darkest Day

Ged and I had a huge row.  And after we had time to think and review and lick our wounds we had a very painful conversation in which I really saw that my anger and rage and railing against everyone and the world is intolerable.  So destructive.  And I knew deep down in my being that I needed help.  I have spent 14 years on the mat or on the punch bag and STILL I am angry.  15 years running and STILL I am angry.  The door of my blame was swung wide open and I saw that it was only me to blame for all that was wrong in our marriage and my life.  It wasn’t a pretty sight.

In fact, I was so devastated by the picture I saw of myself that I truly believed that there was no place for me in this world.  That Ged and Ben would be better off and happier without me.  I felt that I was so difficult to love, and so little loved by so very few, that somehow it would be kinder to all not to have to struggle with me and my emotional tornadoes any more.  God knows I have long wanted a rest from them myself and have begged for the burden of this anger to be taken from me.

I was so raw but also still so frustrated with myself, the situation, Ben, everything.  Shannon and Nathan came and to my great shame when Ben was (yet again!) putting stones down the pipe into the septic I snapped and grabbed him by one arm and hoisted him up in the air and then plonked him down on the ground 4 metres away.  It was exactly the sort of thing my parents would have done.  The only thing that was missing was the stinging smack.  But the energy was the same.  And that beautiful boy doesn’t deserve that, he deserves so much better than a mother like me.  I see so clearly that he could have someone young and pretty and joyful and light filled.  Instead he has got me.  I have already damaged him, and I don’t want to any more.  I want him to retain his crystalline goodness and beauty and his angelic love.  Please don’t let him be polluted by me and all my bile and rage and spite.

So I went for a run all churning up inside with such self hatred and self disgust, such sorrow and pain, such self loathing, fear for the future and despair at myself and the chaos I have created.  I only got as far as the Angle Creek ridge before I had to sit down and howl.  And it was then that it became clear to me that there was no place for me in this world.  It’s by far from the first time I have felt this but I hope it will be the last.  I decided to go up the logging track above the Eyrie and find a tree.  Of course it wouldn’t be today because I didn’t have a rope but at least I could make a plan.  And so I stumbled with every step, blinded by tears and despair at this being I was whose only peace was in letting go of life and all the things that I love the most and have made me the most fulfilled and happy – my husband, my beautiful boy and my land.

When I got up to the top I found such incredible beauty and peace.  Boulders and cliff faces tumbling down into a flora filled abyss, trickling streams from the deluges we have just experienced, and such serenity.  And there was I in my darkness looking for the perfect place to put an end to my sorrow once and for all.  Looking for a place to die.

The difficulties are immense.  I didn’t want to damage or harm my beautiful angelic boy so best to do it while he is so young and won’t remember his Mama who loves him so much.  I didn’t want to be found by anybody so that they would be traumatised by the experience.  I didn’t want to hang.  I had my lovely wool jumper around my waist and realisd I could use that so I fashioned a slip knot around my neck and boulder hopped looking for the perfect tree, the perfect spot.  There were plenty of places.  And my mind had become quite clinical and calculating about the whole thing.  I can’t now believe that I walked around for so long with a noose around my neck.  I don’t know what stopped me there and then but I decided to walk on to the area I had earlier envisaged as the ‘right one’.  In the walking I removed the jumper from my neck and somehow found a little peace and respite.  I think I thought ‘tomorrow’.

So I kept walking up the narrow track Judy had worn on her Vision Quest to find the open area she had told Ged about.  It was there, on the other side of a fence, bathed in sunlight and sheltered from the wind.  A little clearing in the forest.  I found a spot and lay down to rest, exhausted.

And felt the peace and warmth of the sun penetrate my cold body and soul and light and life re-enter me.  I felt healing angel hands of love and light soothe me, stroke me, heal me.  And finally after all my pleading over the last few years (‘take this cup from me’) that this rage and darkness be removed from me, I saw and felt it lifted away.

And I felt peace.  In my heart, in my soul, in every cell of my body and I knew I had the strength to return to my life, resolved that I and it would be different.  I had seen myself in all my truth and it was a horrible sight.  Somehow I had to pick myself up and piece together a way of being and living in spite of my horror at who I was and have the honesty to try and fabricate a new path out of the ravages of the old.  Somewhere in me there is a goodness and a love and a heart and if I can hold on tight to those and if not forgive myself for all the rest but at least let them fall away and hope that others can forgive me.  I have been the monster my mother called me in my teenage years, I see that now.  (She was right! )  But just like an addict who finally wakes up to herself (and I am an addict, after all) and sees the damage and destruction she has wrought and goes forth to carve a new path, so too can I.  I don’t know how.  I feel very shaky – my world has been rocked to its foundations and there is very little of the old me I can take forward from this point on but I have to be brave enough to find a way.  One day at a time.  With an open and humble heart, an open mind and a willingness to see and embrace opportunities to change and grow and become a better, kinder, nicer, more loving, giving and whole person.  For my own happiness, for my husband, my marriage, my son.  And just hope that they can forgive me all the pain and sorrow I have caused them, please forget who I was, and love me enough to hold my hand as I walk forward seeking a new way to be.