Someone asked me last week what it feels like to have pneumonia since he (thankfully) has never experienced it. What came to mind was a feeling of drowning, with water rising in a boat and I couldn’t keep up with bailing out. Ironically, a few weeks ago I had a dream in which a ship in which I was sailing was being flooded and no one noticed but me. Since I have portentous nocturnal visions, this came as no surprise. Clearly, I needed to heed my own impressions and drop anchor and float for a bit. Medical intervention in the ER, at my local hospital and now at home, are helping, in addition to prayers, naps, healing treatments from friends both at a distance and in person. Reiki, Quantum Sun Source Energetics, Reflexology and Somatic Therapy. What I have noticed is that while I have experienced each of these modalities, the pain in my ribs from coughing has decreased dramatically and my breathing has eased.

Initially, I wondered about the ratio between the success rate of each intervention…how much mainstream and how much metaphysical or holistic. My answer was, ‘who cares?’ All I know is that I feel better. It provided insight into what it might be like for my clients who face chronic conditions. Even in the depths of near despair, I knew that there was an endpoint to the illness. For some of those I serve, they have no clue when or even if the symptoms will dissipate. The added anxiety or depression contributes to the level of discomfort. I was able to keep my feelings of angst under wraps by encouraging self-talk and listening to the wise words of others. I am giving myself ample time to recover which is rare for this go-getter workaholic who has a hard enough time sitting still, let along stopping for an extended period. Over the years and in the face of blessedly short-term acute conditions such as shingles, heart attack, and kidney stones, I have taken time off and then resumed steady and sometimes increasing activity, convincing myself that I can handle it. For the short term, I can manage anything, knowing that there is an endpoint and one morning I will wake up and realize that I feel dramatic improvement. Getting there. No rush.

During the Somatic Therapy session, Donna,  the practitioner in training asked me to dialog with various body parts and what I came up with astounded me. One area had me imagine a triangular shaped scone (now I think of it as cranberry orange flavor) and the idea that there needs to be a balance, thus the three corners. At one point, we spoke about my awareness of a safety net that could catch me if I fell, since trusting myself to surrender to the care of others is paramount. I saw it as if it were a bouncy trampoline that could actually provide fun. At another moment in the session, I became aware of the existence of a small and high bouncing super ball that represented my state of being much of the time. Often, I feel like I am here, there and everywhere, unpredictably.  We transformed it into a squishy, squeezy stress ball that I could turn to when feeling overwhelmed. Another metaphor that arose had to do with transforming the rushing flood waters into an easy flowing stream. It brought to mind something I enjoy doing in the summer which is tubing along the Delaware River. Sitting in an inner tube and allowing the flow to carry me rather than paddling through the tide is much more pleasurable and far less fatiguing. By the time I rolled off the table, I felt far more grounded and slept well last night.

Today,  I ventured out to my office for a short visit to make phone calls and do some errands. I was going to say ‘run some errands,’ which is typical of me. I often say I am ‘going to jump in the shower,’ and ‘grab breakfast/lunch/dinner,’ as if I had to rapidly move through the day to get stuff accomplished. Not so, if I want to stay healthy. My mother used to advise, “The hurrier I go, the behinder I get.” When I returned,  I felt wiped and see a nap in my future.

I am reminded of the story of the tortoise and the hare…slow and steady wins the race.