the part of me

my anthem. 
ignore the fact that it's about some loser guy.
irrelevant.
same thing.
it's loser E.D.
declare it.


all of us have at least one part that
it didn't take away.
find it.
grow from that.
use it as kerosene.
light the rest of your body,
your mind,
your spirit.
there is a part of you that can help find the rest of you.
and to that truth we hold on.
hold on.



(please excuse the cheesy sing-a-long lyrics, ha!)

dedicated to M :)

this is the part of me,

C

wounds

Thursday night, I read this and got chills all over my body.

Friday night, I read this and tried to bury it beneath the surface of my heart.

Saturday afternoon, I read this and I wondered what it would be like to not question my wounds.

to not try and figure them out.

Sunday night, I read this and my wounds surfaced again and they got scary.

Monday night, I read this again… my wounds surfaced...again.

I was terrified again.

My wounds are deep.

Deeper than I can see, deeper than I know, multiplying every day… 

even the days of healing.

and endless abyss of discovery…

it cold, confusing, uncomfortable and appearing on my skin.

Then. This afternoon, 

I read it again.

I wanted to hide those wounds appearing 

on my skin so badly I could burst into a million pieces. 

but sitting right there in the park, whisper:

"Your heart is greater than your wounds.

You have to let go of the need to stay in 

control of your pain and 

trust in the healing power of your heart."

you must live your wounds through, 

through the skin, through the surface,

 through the darkness.

and so 

I read this again moments ago and got the 

chills, tears, longing, terror, acceptance, all at once.

I invite you to experience the same. 

Read for weeks on end,, until it becomes true.

I will do the same.

Live your Wounds Through

by: Henri J.M. Nouwen

You have been wounded in many ways. The more you open yourself to being healed, the more you will discover how deep your wounds are. You will be tempted to become discouraged, because under every wound you uncover you will find others. Your search for true healing will be a suffering search. Many tears still need to be shed.

But do not be afraid. The simple fact that you are more aware of your wounds shows that you have sufficient strength to face them. 

The great challenge is living your wounds through instead of thinking them through. It is better to cry than to worry, better to feel your wounds deeply than to understand them, better to let them enter into your silence than to talk about them. The choice you face constantly is whether you are taking your hurts to your head or to your heart. In your head you can analyze them, find their causes and consequences, and coin words to speak and write about them. But no final healing is likely to come from that source. You need to let your wounds go from that source. You need to let your wounds go down into your heart. Then you can live them through and discover that they will not destroy you. Your heart is greater than your wounds.

((… your heart is greater than your wounds.))

Understanding your wounds can only be healing when that understanding is put at the service of your heart. Going to your heart with your wounds is not easy; it demands letting go of many questions. You want to know "Why was I wounded?" "When?" "How?" "By whom?" You will believe that the answers to these questions will bring relief. But at best they only offer you a little distance from your pain. You have to let go of the need to stay in control of your pain and trust in the healing power of your heart. There your hurts can find a safe place to be received, and once they have been received, they lose their power to inflict damage and become fruitful soil for new life.

((soil for new life.))

Think of each wound as you would of a child who has been hurt by a friend. As long as that child is ranting and raving, trying to get back at the friend, one wound leads to another. But when the child can experience the consoling embrace of a parent, she or he can live through the pain, return to the friend, forgive, and build up a new relationship. Be gentle with yourself, and let your heart be your loving parent as you live your wounds through.

may all of these surfaces,

these wounds,

these dark moments,

these weaknesses,

these battle become 

soil for new life.

may we live through these

to find new life.

may we have strength enough to live.

live through,

C

beating still

I don't know why I couldn't tell anyone.
Maybe it was because I was scared to say it out loud, then it would be real.
      because I can't fully remember the day, but I do. Oh I do. 
      because I am terrified someone will demand medical help.
But my heart is stronger now,
stronger than before.
my heart is beating.


I have verbally told one person.
I just had to say it, tell someone, get it out of my head
away from being trapped behind my teeth
away from sinking too far down, knowing it would be only for a little while.
the words ached as they drained out, but...
It relieved me.

Grateful, humbled, in awe, broken,
I am healing and I am beating stronger.
And now, I decided it was time to… well, write.
write and relieve, so that I don't re-live

Last night in yoga class we ended by laying down as usual.
One hand over my heart, one hand on my belly.
I was working on calming my brain from listing everything I had to do afterwards
and battling away the thoughts of,
"Your pants feel tighter, don't they?
Good… bad. Good… bad.
Yay? Nay? Ugh… shut up. Didn't I tell you that five million times today?"

Something stopped my thoughts in their tracks,
my heart beat.

All of the sudden I became aware of my heart beating, drumming, expanding, contracting, moving, pounding, singing, breathing within my chest.
I stilled my hand over my heart and let the beat take me to that place I feared,
the memory that came,
that past fear, ache…
now,
a world of gratitude.

Oftentimes when I get overwhelmed or frustrated,
I have recently began to close my eyes and place my hands over my heart.
Because I remember to be grateful it is there, it is working,
it is pressing on
and so am I.

Two months ago, I had a revelation that nearly paralyzed my body for an entire night. It was a Sunday again, seems to be the day of emotion. I was probably feeling a little anxious about the coming week and I was in church swaying, lost in the music and I felt my heart begin beating really fast. Of course I reacted in a nervous panic, an any other ED conquerer would…What's going on? Why is it doing this? Am I going to pass out? I feel fine? I ate today… what is that? Why is this happening? Nothing happened, it was just telling me it was there. I was there. Immediately my mind swept away to February. That pain in my chest radiating down my arm, unable to breathe normally for days. It had come over me like an electric shock on the way home from my grandmother's funeral and wouldn't let me go. I was terrified. I slept with my mom for a couple of nights, refused to go to the doctor, took more "heartburn" medicine than any human should take and blamed the coffee, hardly slept in fear of not waking up, googled possible diagnosis and absolutely, positively refused to even think of: heart attack. 

The ED told me lies, but fed me terror. I've never been so scared. Yet, during these days… I was numb. Didn't even know how scared I was, yet writhing on the inside. Crying for help, asking for a saving grace. I didn't want this to be the end, but my body refused to feel, no part of me could shatter it. I didn't want to face the doctor's questions, they terrify me. I didn't want to believe the pain down my arm was anything but a pulled muscle. I didn't want my friends to ask why I went to the hospital. I didn't wanna scare momma and I didn't want to tell dad I knew this disease was responsible for it… the battle I didn't know was doing this to my heart.

A few days later, after resting, laying off the caffeine and regaining strength from the loss of emotions over the previous week… the pain subsided, the memory would not leave. Every time I had the slightest offbeat, my body quivered. Could this be it? Still, the woman who could still feel the slightest bit was terrified… so she pushed it further and further down. I don't want to deal with you now.
Hidden.

 It wasn't until I was in the dermatologist office weeks after the pain when I picked up a little "Women's Health" magazine in the waiting room. Ironically enough, February was Heart Health month...I was flipping through and the bold letters of a page caught my eye "I had a heart attack and didn't know it…" It took me ten minutes to force myself to read the article. Yes, yes, yes and…. yes. But no, I won't believe it. I won't. 


I didn't believe it then, but I lived.
It's still beating.
Now, I believe. I'm ready… to look it in the eyes.
To write it for my eyes to see, to rid me of the pain.
EKG's later… it's still beating.
Screams, laughs, hard days, nervous hours, downward dogs,
doctor's visits, loud music concerts, late night silences,
early morning "motivation showers"…. it's still beating.
Tears of joy, it is still beating.

That Sunday night… wasn't a "scare".
It was a gift. A reminder.
It was a cleanse. Yes, I survived a heart attack,
one that should have never happened.


But,
everyday as recovery gets harder then easier then harder again,
it beats and beats and beats.
You're not finished. You're only beginning this life
just beginning to beat and beat…and beat.
you are new, but it is
beating still.

another chance.
my heart says

Thank You for another chance, 

C

for a heartfelt post of gratitude: read.