This woman has inspired me throughout my entire adult life. I am grateful that I have always had good people to respect and admire, showing me that compassion and service for others is the only way to happiness and fulfillment.
Body Talk. I am grateful for Mel, my Body Talk practitioner. If you have never heard of it, google it. I do warn you now that some of the following refers to my periods. I’ll do that bit last-ish.
Body Talk is a process of natural healing. The practitioner scans your body for area/s in need of priority healing and then provides like a tune up or session of reprogramming for the corresponding part of your body. The practitioner does this through energy healing and tapping on your head and sternum, which also locks the programming in. I think I have that mostly right (I hope).
I love it. As soon as we start I can feel the energy (chi) swirling throughout my body. I tried to describe the sensation today. The closest thing I could use was when you are really drunk and lie down and the entire room spins. With Body Talk, for me, that swirling isn’t the whole room but just everything inside of me. And it isn’t a heavy, sick feeling but more like a light energy with lots of glitter and sparkles.
My first session was to try and remedy my periods. Some of you may want to stop reading now. Or at least the next couple of sentences so I’ll leave some extra space …
Since I was fourteen, my experience every month has been horrific. Cramps, migraines, bloating, vomit, huge blood clots, heavy blood flow. I had never known what a ‘normal’ experience was like.
Until my last period, two weeks after my first Body Talk session. No cramping. No clots. No vomit. Very light blood loss. Unfortunately, the migraine stayed. It was amazing.
The most amazing part aside from this, was that as Mel worked on me, I could feel her hand talking to my body and FELT my body talk back, my uterus in particular. It was phenomenal.
And it yielded unbelievable results.
If only I had utilised it during my infertility journey … If only …
A miracle awaited me this morning. For no apparent reason, I woke up anxiety free. It is the first time in almost ten weeks that I did not wake up after nightmares with a heavy, sick, pulling feeling in my stomach.
I easily left my bed. Easily dressed for work. Cared about my appearance. A spring in the step and an excitement to go to work. I have smiled today, laughed today, been almost carefree today. For no apparent reason.
I am so grateful that I have had one day of being me, of normal, of happy.
Grateful to the extreme.
I have decided that May will be my month of public gratitude. Yesterday, unintentionally, started it.
My anxiety shifted during today. I am closing today in a more positive mindset. I had almost three hours of no anxiety today. First time in many, many weeks.
I love teaching. I am grateful that I am able to do it each day for as long as I choose to. I am grateful for each and every one of my students, both past and present. I become inspired every day by my students. Most battling their own demons, and surviving with love and courage in their hearts.
I love my colleagues, my friends. The love that they show me every day is a very special gift. They tolerate me on my bad days, and never fail to try to pick me up. To go to a workplace every day, where people have your back without knowing what is going on in your life, is such a special thing. A smile, a hug, a kind word, a giggle … Goes a long, long way.
There are no words. For the first time in months, I arrived home happy to do some more school work and feel light after completing it.
And to Liam, your essay impressed me.
When I was a little girl, I held beliefs about aging. It seemed that everyone that was an adult had their life planned and sorted by their thirties.
Every adult, almost every adult, was married, with kids, living in the suburbs. If the couples were older their children had already moved out. But life, even my tumultuous family life, was stable and relatively predictable.
I have some wonderful childhood memories, mostly from hanging out with all of the neighbourhood kids. We made some amazing fun. We were all welcome in each other’s yards, some homes, and it was safe for us to wander the streets.
Everything seemed stable. I’m sure that it wasn’t. But I’m also mostly certain it was more stable than life these days.
Even in aging there is no certainty. We are growing older. I am grateful for that. At forty five I don’t feel old. Almost fifty, and I believe I still have half my life to live and that my best years are ahead of me. There is a calm in that for me.
Most importantly because it isn’t too late to start a new path. Yes, it is too late for motherhood, but not for living.
And I am grateful for that.