Deliverance

I took this photo last year in July at the beach in Florida. It was a rough trip. In the twists and turns of my illness, sometimes I get a sudden onslaught of new symptoms.

This was one of those times.

I got incredibly nauseous in the ocean the second day and couldn’t shake it. On top of that, I had met someone who turned into a gaslighting monster right about the same time.

I was right in the thick of suffering, and it was certainly NOT supposed to be happening. I was on my much anticipated beach vacation.

I had to dig deep.

This was precisely the time to employ my years of training in my meditation practice. I knew I had to be with it and find a way to hold it.

And that’s what I did. I stayed in my body. I rested and said no to unnecessary activities. I cried, a lot. I confided in a friend about what happened. I laid down on the beach and breathed often. I had to accept that I wouldn’t be able to swim much, which was big, because I love swimming in the ocean. I fought with the nausea some, trying to get control, but I also allowed it as best I could and enjoyed myself despite it.

Illness has taught me a lot about finding joy in the midst of unavoidable pain. It’s softened me to pain.

Towards the end of the trip, I had a beautiful first experience of a certain kind of coming home that has repeated and deepened over time. I was laying in the sand at night meditating, looking at the stars playing in the sand.

I felt strongly that the beach was healing my body. That nature could restore my health over time, somehow. Feeling into this connection, I started crying and an awareness burst forth out of nowhere that I was home. Deeply a part of this world. It was experiential, an undeniable knowing that I belong here, was being beckoned back here. Was truly SAFE here.

I believe that my abiding with the hardship during the trip ripened me to be able to receive this truth. I held to my practice. In doing so, I found love in a new flavor. The perfect flavor.

The end of the trip was wonderful. The state of Being that I was connected to allowed me to revel and play in those ending moments. This is what thriving looks like.

And this is the type of story I love to tell. ❤️🙏