On Father’s Day Tim asked that his present be to do nothing. Go nowhere. Just hang out. Since arriving in Washington, DC we haven’t had many days like this. Jacob is a constant doer (I’ve always said he needs to work on a cruise ship when he’s older because something’s scheduled every 30 minutes), Aden always wants to play soccer and me, well, that’s the funny thing, I don’t know anymore. Faced with a day of doing nothing and asking myself what would I like to do I didn’t have a clue. So I did five loads of laundry.
Okay, I know, that was Red Flag number one waving loud and clear, but it took until this Wednesday sitting at the gynecologist’s office to get smacked and knocked down with the second Red Flag before I had an inkling of what doing laundry on my day of nothingness meant.
Three months ago I had an ultrasound to check to see if I had fibroids, which I did, but they also found a cyst on my left ovary. No problem, women form cysts every month so they may have just caught one a particular time of the month. It was only 3 centimeters. And seemed chocolate, which means inactive. Well, on Wednesday it had doubled in size to over 6 centimeters and the gynecologist started talking surgery and even removal of one of my ovaries.
Let me back up. On Friday I had to run to urgent care for a toe infection and they put me on a sulfa drug that makes me feel like I’m in the permanent spin cycle of a dryer. So when my perky gynecologist said “surgery” I thought I must have misheard.
“What if I don’t get surgery?” I asked the Gyn.
“The cyst might pull on your ovary so much that it twists and you end up in excruciating pain and emergency surgery.”
Great. And just months ago I was complaining about a gluten-free diet. I think twisted ovary tops the stress of finding gluten free food.
Ego kicked in big time. But I’m the “My Body Rocks” woman, I can’t have a cyst that requires surgery. I can’t loose my ovary. I’ve failed. I’m a loser mom who can’t handle work, soccer practices, games, interfacing continually with Jacob’s school about his special needs, having my husband go on 3 week work trips, getting heavy periods every month (which is why I was at the gyn in the first place), etc etc. I mean, what is wrong with me?
And that’s when, thank the universe, yoga nidra kicked in. I remembered that in fact this is a messenger and if I listen closely to its whisperings it will clear (even if it takes surgery). I can clear the thought patterns that grew this cyst.
When I got back from the doctor I sequestered myself in my room and started reading everything Dr. Christiane Northrup has written about cysts in her new edition of Women’s Bodies, Women’s Wisdom (really, I call it The Bible for Every Woman – Northrup is a gift from the universe). Not surprisingly, there she was telling me exactly what I already knew. That cysts are blocked creative energy, second chakra stuff from relationships to money, and in order to change my patterns I needed to make alot of changes in my life.
I almost took a swig of Tim’s lime and rum juice that night. I probably should of. Taking a pill or even having surgery seems like a piece of cake compared to the task of changing my life. In Northrup’s case, she writes that she had a huge fibroid that even with all the energy healing in the world kept growing. Finally she decided to have it surgically removed, but when she did she did it consciously, asking the anesthesiologist to say the following words to her and repeat it several times:
When you awaken, you will have released the emotional pattern associated with your fibroid.
And sure enough after the surgery those words began to work their magic.
I love this story. But I can’t imagine with a straight face being able to ask an anesthesiologist to say those words. He’d think I was an earthy-crunchy hippie chick, roll his eyes and probably knock me out a bit longer.
Yet as a woman and a mother I thought her approach to her fibroid and surgery rocked. We can be stuck in the painful, powerless victim mode or say yes to ourselves, yes to our soul, and yes to life. Isn’t this what we ultimately want to teach our children?
I’m ready to say yes. (I just hope my “yes” doesn’t involve leaving my husband which was part of Northrup’s route).
Here’s a poem I l just discovered and seems appropriate for this moment:
Unconditional ~ by Jennifer Wellwood
Willing to experience aloneness,
I discover connection everywhere;
Turning to face my fear,
I meet the warrior who lives within;
Opening to my loss,
I gain the embrace of the universe;
Surrendering into emptiness,
I find fullness without end.
Each condition I flee from pursues me,
Each condition I welcome transforms me
And becomes itself transformed
Into its radiant jewel-like essence.
I bow to the one who has made it so,
Who has crafted this Master Game.
To play it is purest delight;
To honor its form–true devotion.
So now the laundry waits, my soul is open and what next is unknown.
PS: After much resistance, Jacob did yoga nidra at my class this week! “I liked when you took me into my brain the most,” my dyslexic son said. “My brain was smiling.”
PPSS: I’m using Joy Kirsten’s 25-minute yoga nidra track on her “Birthing the Phoenix” CD and for some reason it’s not resonating with me. It feels too fast-paced, like my brain can’t move around my body that fast. So I’ve been going back to Robin’s 22-minute track every few days and I’m searching for what yoga nidra CD to choose next. Maybe I’ll make my own!!!