The River Flooded Me So I Would Get Out Of Bed!

The biggest gift and source of despair in being sick is that I HAVE to stop.

I can write the "to-do" list but there is no way it is making it into a full-formed written "schedule". I can plan 6 blog-spots in the morning, but it's very unlikely they will see themselves in draft form for a while.  I can make the bed, but there is no way I will be able to sweep the floor too.

I just collapse, my heart beats too fast, I get shortness of breath, my joints ache and I fall into a spiral of depression and despair that only James, with his love and humour, knows how to get me out of.

Day #9 of Antibiotics.  The picture is not out of focus
that is actually how I feel

Some days I feel like reading.  And off I go through those pages! Devouring beautiful poems, diary entries, feminine accounts of dealing with difficulties, only to realize, as I finish a book in one sitting, that I over-did it. Aaaaggg screams my life force.

And so the days keep passing, and the level of antibiotics on the bottle keeps lowering its tide, and I do a lot less than I ever did in my whole life.  And in the stopping...

I have found some blessings:

The most helpful of all has been a prayer I had long forgotten. It is said that if one performs this prayer for 40 days then a miracle will happen.  Strangely enough it is not the miracle that drives my practice. Not this time, because I cannot even perform it right (standing up).  So I move slowly and do it in my head, eyes closed, blanket to my nose.

And the Divine shows up in my life, like she always does when called upon.

Yesterday, on day 9 of the antibiotics, (out of 21) I had a little more energy. I was able to have my cocktail of healing pills and stay in the living-room until 9:16 AM. An accomplishment! I had not been able to pass the 8:20 mark before.

And then, in the way that miracles happen, Mother Hudson River rose  and the streets of my little village got flooded.  Everyone was fine and nobody was hurt.

Main Street, the Gazebo can be seen in the distance.
There was a guy in a yellow kayak paddling around it and having
the time of his life.

The river rose up Main street, flooded and washed the streets with fresh water, prana-filled air, and came all the way to my window, flooding our little garden.

Our garden looked more like a pond

In a slow and sweet way, as a mother would to a baby, the river nudged me into coming down: "Let's go see!" said James. And so we did, and I stayed out longer and I breathed the fresh air and I felt the water of the river and I felt its power and its blessing.

Mother River Coming to my doorsteps, urging me to breathe
her energy-filled air and wash away the sorrows

And this of course was a miracle. A reminder of how by slowing down we can hear the voice of the guru that is NOT within, but rather all around, and that is ALWAYS talking to us. For example: flooding waters to our bed so we will stand up and take in the fresh air, whispering into our ears: "feel good", "come to me!", "know that you are a blessed child", "know that I am looking after you".

If only we are willing to listen and slow down.

And so this "guru" that everyone tells me is inside (you know?: "all paths lead to find the guru inside you", "the real guru is the one in you", and all that talk), I found out this weekend, is actually all around.

IT PERMEATES EVERYTHING

And this is how I know:

• I know YOU are there when after the storm I feel it would be nice to have electricity again so I can cook something and the light bulb on the lamp behind me turns up again. At that exact moment.
• I know YOU are there when I miss my brother and, right then, I see an e-mail from him, displaying in pictures his latest furniture creation

My brother is an artist of carpentry among many other talents

• I know YOU are guiding me when I am suddenly able to let go of envy of others who write about yoga better than me, and notice that in fact there is no competition at all, but only connection to YOU
• I know YOU are there when you give me enough energy to think and even write a post that makes me proud, and only on day 5 of antibiotics, even if it costs me the whole rest of the day in a near comma.
• Or when YOU direct me to read an extraordinary book that reconnects me with your light so quickly, so seamlessly, so elegantly, so powerfully.
• I know YOU are there when I read the message boards in open forums for James posts' and I see how much anger there is out there, how much projection. How the lack of connection to YOU is so obvious, how many people need to be prayed for, put in the light, experience the miracle of seeing themselves anew, and drop the old and stagnant hatred that does not serve them.
• I see YOU in the bravery of those who are sicker than me, finding gifts in situations that are much harder than mine, cause after all, I know I am not so bad, even if I died, I have found YOU! 
• I see YOU when James tells me to shhh and relax and breathe and go to sleep, and then I see him bow in prayer, and I know the love in him is so deep, so real. I am so blessed.
• I feel YOUR love in his embrace, protection, laughter, inspiration.
• I know YOU are there as trickster when I start working on dreams again and suddenly I listen to Clarissa's fourth chapter of "The Dangerous Old Woman", and she nudges me into paying attention to dreams (again!) in a naughty, feminine way, a way that comes from the ovarios mujer! From the dirty talks that happen among women and that make us laugh until our bellies hurt a little and our hearts heal with warmth.
• I know YOU are there when I want to eat something and the supermarket has JUST finished baking it. Hm. What are the odds?

I see YOU are there, all permeating, in every detail, in every breath If only I slow down to notice!