Photo by Lyn
Today my daughter is home sick, and I am feeling very content that I am able to be with her, to help her feel better as she exercises her own healing power. I don't feel the nagging fears that I would have felt, before I began the daunting task of questioning my thoughts; worried if she has something scary, or that she is getting behind at school, and missing formative moments with her friends. I don't feel any resistance to the fact that I may not be able to participate in my normal activities, which this week happens to include a girls night out to the big city. I have no choice but to accept what is, and move with it, and I feel surprisingly okay with it. I'm not making more illness out of the thoughts in my head, to stack on top of the illness of my daughter.
Sometimes when I am talking to my daughter about her innate ability to heal, I feel a voice of love speaking through me, to my own heart and to my own experience. It tells me that our bodies heal naturally when we don't get in the way of it with our fears and judgements, when we are not creating more experiences of pain beyond an experience of being sick. It tells me too, that our illness has purpose, that it is there to show us something in ourselves that needs healing--at the least to slow us down, to remind us of what is important--to force us to step out of all of the unnatural routines that we have set up for ourselves.
It keeps saying that there is no healing of the body, unless there is healing of the mind.
I see how my little one writhes against the uncomfortable sensations in her body that tell her something is not right. I see her panic when she thinks she might throw up. I see her fear and resistance as she experiences 'pain'.
I see how difficult it is for her to experience any variation of normal because her mind won't let her be flexible about this--too much at stake!
And it reflects to me how our minds want us to see any deviation from normal as something to be feared and dreaded.
I help her to find the beauty of getting to slow down, to feel these new sensations, to see if she can move through them without judging them as good and bad. I help her to notice the magic of the Tylenol, and how it makes her feel better, how mostly, it eases her mind.
I remind her that her body is working wonderfully to heal itself, and that all she needs to do is to allow it. If we must see a doctor, she will allow him to work his magic too, but she is learning of her own healing power, that doesn't rely on outside structures the mind has created. She is learning about the ultimate healing power of love. I can't wait to see where her generation will take it.
I love that she isn't a victim of whatever has taken hold. I love that it is just another experience for her. I love that it has slowed both of us down to see the beauty.
I love that I do not feel afraid.
I feel content this morning and thankful for the peace that is here. It is new. It is my balance shifting to a more flexible way of being, one that accepts and finds purpose. I embrace this 'test', and I know deep within, that it is a gift to be shown how deeply these changes are seeping in.
I love this new life that little by little is setting me free. I don't have to adhere to any routine, or way of thinking. Someday I won't have to create sickness to remind myself of that.
I love that I can be here with my daughter, without my fear standing between us. I get to feel our healing hearts together. And then there is the miracle: when I say all is well, I really feel it.
I can't wait for the eternal Spring that awaits our beautiful earth, as we all discover our own healing power, and our very own peace within.