- I love air. I love the taste of air, It is always there, even when I get punched in the stomach,lose it for a few seconds, waiting for me to find it. I love the feel of it on my cheeks. I love the way it runs through my hair. I love opening my door and meeting it , waiting for me to take it in, let out a sigh and melt. Hot, warm, cool, cold. It lingers. It is free. A free reminder that home is always available, by breathing it in through my nose, into every cell. In and out. A home. A break from dis – ease. A point to bring my mind back to after it wanders. The Universe Breathes Me. All I have to do is make space and the universe fills it.
- Letting go is necessary for survival. Sickness creates neediness and suffering. Clinging creates more suffering. Nothing belongs to me, regardless of how long my claws are, how deep I have penetrated. Nothing is mine, not even life. Letting go allows for ease. Surrendering is the only way out. I am a creature that wants to predict. I want to control outcomes. I want to know tomorrows script. Surrendering will create ease and deep rest. Surrendering whispers to the universe –I trust you. And all will be exactly as it should be. All I have to do is make the space and the universe fills it.
- Everyone is just as scared as me. There is no room for shame. We are all on this ride together, sick or not. We are all moving daily through personal battles asking “Why?” We all tremble as this big ball flies through nothingness, buckling our seat belts a little tighter, calling our moms a little louder, bargaining a little harder. It should be easy to lock eyes with the stranger on the subway and say, “I know, me too. It’s ok though, you aren’t alone.” All I have to do is make space and the universe fills it.
- I will keep getting kicked in the ass. Sickness is a vehicle for change. There is a power in being completely destroyed. There is a power in hitting bottom over and over. I can kick and scream all the way down. I can cry as I watch everything shed from “I” . But, until I can stand amidst the rubble of what was, laugh and say “Ok I understand now”, I will keep getting kicked in the ass. I am creator and receiver. I am the observer and the observed and all is an illusion. The only reality is my perception of it. Belly laugh all the way through it and the perception will create a new reality. All I have to do is make the space and the universe fills it.
- Grace is given , I only have to be willing to receive and give it to myself – I had no idea what grace really meant before. I watched others walk through illness with a bit more ease and thought – that is how I want to be. It comes with practice. It comes with acceptance. It comes with surrendering. It comes with getting kicked in the ass and clinging more. Falling. Getting up again. Suffering. Making mistakes, Forgiving. Letting go. Laughing and trusting that yes – all is as it should be. All I have to do is make the space and the universe fills it.
- I do not have to become my illness. I have spent countless months allowing this identity to form. I am #chronic, a #chronicwarrior, #Chronicallyawesome. The more I identify with this ,the more ingrained it becomes. The more I speak of it, the more it is me. I am more. I am greater than my body . I can let it go and still be loved. I already am by everything surrounding me. I can start over each day, welcoming it in, embracing it for a few moments, but making sure it knows not to get too comfortable. I am more than chronic. All I have to do is make the space and the universe fills it.
- I am no better than those who abandoned me. I can be very selfish in self preservation. I can whine forever about those who abandon me during my greatest need. Or I can choose to create a new version of myself. One of letting go of the ideas I have of others. They are only ideas.I have created this reality of them. My misperception keeps them static. I can accept the limitations of others, stand in their presence one day and hope they feel a love that can help them if even for a second come back home to themselves. They are greater than my thoughts . I am greater than my need to have them love me as they cannot. All I have to do is make the space and the universe fills it.
- I have been given a gift. It is in a messy package. No bright bows or shiny paper. If I choose to open it, to breathe into it, accept it, be grateful for it, it is a power that loves me enough to work through me , helping others walk a little more gracefully on this big ball flying through nothingness.
The universe breathes me. All I have to do is make space and the universe fills it.