Light as a Feather

It is Sunday and I am on the downhill slope of pain. I am elastic with happy--expanding in the ribs and taking it all in.

Today, I ate two chocolate truffles.

Rebel.

I am happy and tumbling towards green pastures of life with resounding laughter and youth. If only for this moment, let me be blind to all the edges--let the next moment retreat back into the dark woods. Let me just be here, this moment.

Later, I will tell you a story about the beginnings of endometriosis: whiskey, lust, dirt, blood. Later, a story about the beginnings of spirit guides: hospital, pneumonia, vomit, haunted rooms.

For now, a conversation with Seth, my spirit guide:

Me: Why do I have endometriosis? Genetic probability? Karma? Spiritual lesson?

Seth: And what do you believe? And what do you want out of this experience? Where is the portal hole for you? Will you walk into pain? Will you believe that there in infinite sweetness in this place that can feel so cold to you? Can you breathe in a place that promises nothing--that holds no light for your deliverance? What does it mean for you, dear s, to be here in ribs with a heart that's still beating? What do you want?

Me: I don't know what I want? Maybe softness, maybe a hand to hold, maybe someone to tell me that it's going to be okay. I want to collapse in some wise lap and be pet on my hair. I want to lay here in silence and watch the light crescent over the earth. I just want a full breath in peace.

Seth: And, what will you do now to have it? Will you ask someone to touch their hand to your face and tell you, "Sweet love, it will be okay?" Will you sit in a quiet place and let that be enough? Can you stop seeking and see that peace is not so far away. What is endometriosis? Maybe, a fair question is, what is endometriosis for you? Perhaps, a sweet salvation?

Me: Yes. Maybe. But, what do I do? I am so afraid of pain. It terrifies me. I want time to stop on days like today. I just want to be here, frozen, heels in the ground. I want to resist the next moment that might change the way I feel in my body. I don't want to feel pain.

Seth: It is not easy, s. It is not easy to lay the body down for this wind called pain. But, you cannot fight the weather. You cannot demand the sun to shine and the rain to hide. You can warm yourself and be kind to yourself. You can prepare for a storm. This is your relationship to pain right now. You cannot stop a force of nature just because you will it to disappear. It is a wild force of nature, pain. You must be wise, prepare and not fear. How to do this? Ask yourself, what do you need in a storm? The shelter of strong. Find this in human companionship. You need the warmth of fire. Find this in the fire of your heart. Write stories. Read stories. Laugh. Build fires. Sit in blankets. Give to yourself. You see, when you stop wishing pain away, you can use your efforts to prepare. When you are prepared, you can sit. And when you sit, you will listen to the wind. What is the wind pain telling you?

Me: Is the wind telling me to write?

Seth: The wind is telling you a story. Be light in your body and the wind will take you. Let the pain take you to a new place--an unexpected place. No resistance. Lay your head down. The wind will carry you.

Me: I'm scared.

Seth: But, the pain is not. Give your fear to pain and watch it burn into ash.

Bones Are Heavy

It's Friday and all day today I have been hovering between bones and clouds--lightheaded and rootless. If I were in my pajamas in bed watching Netflix movies, then who cares. But Friday is a work day and there are rituals of work to live by. Shower. Dress. Eat. In the office by 10. Professional. I am a healer. I work with spirit guides. All communication channels must be clear. People are paying good money for this.

I am sitting across from my client.
She is timid, shy.
She watches me for clues.
Am I listening? Am I hearing her? Can I feel her?

I am trying.
But, I am nauseous again today.
I feel my face flush.
My stomach rumbles fiercely.

Are you okay? she asks.

I don't know. How can I know? What tests can I take? What proof is there to be had? I don't know.

I started a new treatment. It's a chicken and vegetable (yeah, that's it) diet called the Eubiotic Diet. It's supposed to help decrease the inflammation in my body so that I am not in pain every second of my life. So far, I feel spacey and hungry and pissed off. I want butter. I want hard alcohol. I want pizza because, damn it, it's Friday. I ease my discomfort by spending a small fortune on the few gourmet permutations of chicken and vegetables at the grocery store. There aren't many and so I convince myself that coconut is a vegetable and buy frozen coconut pops.

I like to see myself as an adventurer with an intrepid palate. These days, all the adventure I get is whether or not I can get to my office ten blocks away without having to make a wild u-turn home for the toilet.

I want to save face.
I tell her, "Yeah, I'm fine. It's just the energy moving through me."
But,
I am hungry.
I am so hungry.

Marco. Polo.

I have endometriosis.

What that looks like is a ghost. You cannot see anything.

There is no sore to pick. No wound to bandage. No scar to prove anything.

This is what it feels like:

The slowest cold slice of a very long sword.

I feel each cell divided.

Something deep and unknown is being cut open.

I feel myself dividing and I do not know what will become of me.

This is also what it feels like:

FUCK YOU

I HATE THIS

THIS HURTS SO MUCH

WHAT WILL HAPPEN TO ME

Then, a calm. A cry. A hurt. A betrayal.

Endometriosis is a ghost disease. I cannot see it, but I can feel it occupying me. It’s a vague sense of mystery and confusion. I cannot hear what it is trying to tell me. It’s a language I have not learned.

Dear Endometriosis,

What are you trying to tell me?

Love, s

I am creating this blog in the hopes of learning the language of endometriosis. This is a dialogue—one part of the cell shouting across the chasm to the other. Somewhere, there is truth.

Marco.