An Autoimmune Warrior: The Unlikely Look of Lyme

On Wednesday I was at TJ Maxx looking for a pair of jeans. My arm cried out in pain as I slid a pair of jeans from one side of the rack to the other, as if I’d just lifted a 50 lb. dumbbell. Determined to at least try a pair on, I threw them into the cart and headed into the dressing rooms. Once inside I leaned against the wall to steady myself. Heat from within blasted me like fire from a blow torch. Chanting quietly, I sternly affirmed to myself, I will not pass out. I WILL NOT PASS OUT.

I waited it out breathing a sigh of relief when I could stand on my own. I put the jeans on and stepped up to the three-way mirror. “Hey, look at your hair,” my mind said, “it looks like straw.” Right. Thanks for that.

As I lifted my leg to get out of the jeans, pain, heat and dizziness began again. I needed to leave the store. Now.

Extreme fatigue and pain is what I press on through in normal daily life, but this level of weakness? My concern is growing.

On Thursday, one day later, I was at an appointment with a new specialist. “I’m not going to lie to you,” he said. “It’s serious.”

As terrible as those words were to hear, they were also a bit like the song of angels. Finally! Someone in the medical field was acknowledging what I’ve known for so long: There’s more to my health story than what’s been discovered.

The irony of intuitive gifts is that when something isn’t right, I know it. I carry unshakable unease, without being able to identify the problem. For those I love the most, my family, friends, dog, myself, the details are blanked out by emotional attachment.

For years I’ve been without a guide, someone knowledgeable in the field of “whatever it is that ails me.” Alone, these waters are treacherous. I’ve been hanging onto the boat for dear life, celebrating every time the waters calm, praying hard for a sign of land every time another storm begins. I’ve longed for a mentor versed in the language and science of the body, one who can hear its screams and still believe that it can be healed rather than “managed.”

“Your heart has been affected,” he said, “as well as your pancreas.”

I watched my mom’s eyes widen from across the room.

I like it when she comes with me to appointments because I don’t always retain what the practitioners tell me. Her eyes were acknowledging what I’d said to her a couple weeks prior. I’d been researching my microbiology test results online.

“Mom, I have a feeling this has to do with my pancreas,” I’d said. It keeps coming up around me, but I’m so tired. I can’t do any research on it, because I’m just not ready to accept more right now.”

On some level I already knew, but I wasn’t ready.

“You have trouble sleeping don’t you?” He asked, while checking my vitals.

“Right. I do not sleep well.”

“You have to eat every couple hours?”

“Yes,” I answered. “Or else my brain shuts down and I lose the ability to talk.”

“And your feet are cold?”

“My toes are numb.”

In the last couple weeks my toes had become uncomfortably numb with a purple cast. Six days before, it took over 25 minutes sitting inside an infrared sauna before they finally became warm. Not good.

It’s hard to remember exactly what he said in our appointment because icy chills began to ripple the length of my body, distracting me from his words. It wasn’t news to me that a lot of body systems were involved with an “Immunity Disorder” but his take on things was new, with an eerily accurate feel.

I quietly freak on new information before I can absorb it. The freaking had begun.

It was something about circulation, oxygen, the way my heart and pancreas have to work extra hard. Sleeping challenges my body because it’s basically fasting. Without food every 2 hours it struggles.

I thought of my nights. Lately, getting up to use the bathroom at night has been difficult. I feel trapped under my covers as my arms feebly attempt to lift them off me. When my arms are unsuccessful I wiggle my leg to the side seeking cool air, then use my leg plus a rolling maneuver to escape the weight of the comforter.

Staggering to the bathroom, my legs complain about the walk. The heat blast begins, taking over my whole body except my toes which remain stubborn to warmth. Dizzy, I stumble back to bed. My stomach grumbles with hunger so I drink the water I’ve purposely placed bedside so I can drown the middle-of-the-night feeling of starvation. When I lay back down, I stay outside the covers, sweating, and waiting for the strength to get back in.

I might fall back asleep within a half-hour, but only if I succeed in keeping my mind mushy throughout the trek. Otherwise, it’s wide awake, with bonus time to think about how much this sucks.

Blood sugar issues? Would you believe that my medical record doesn’t show as much as a small glucose issue? Yet, each year the window between how often I have to eat before I crash has been growing smaller. I remember when it was four hours, then three. In the past year I’ve dropped below three. I could be slowly dying, but my labs will “look good.”

I thought of the varicose veins now featured on my calves. Like cracks in the ice gaining speed, they’ve fanned out and spread. My legs are way too young to look this old! You could say that circulation is a problem.

As I listened to the specialist, things were coming together for me. His explanations matched my symptoms in a way that no one else ever had. And then he said it…

“Your symptoms are consistent with a bacterial infection like Lyme Disease.”

My memory flashed quickly to a bulls-eye ring rash that my ex- husband had on his chest once. He went to the doctor. They said it was nothing. Me? I don’t remember one.

Does this look like the face of Lyme?

The face of Lyme?

“How long do you think you’ve had this infection?” the specialist asked. Based on severity of symptoms, we both did some calculations, settling at between 7-10 years.

“NOOOOOOOOOO,” I wanted to scream.

“Let’s not get attached that word as a label though,” he said, seeing the look on my face.

“In fact, we have a code number for what’s going on with you. We actually don’t use the word Lyme here. That word was for you to understand the seriousness of the bacterial infection in your nervous system and nature of what you’re dealing with.”

Giving the infection a code word was brilliant, I thought to myself.

What can a label do for— or do to— a chronically ill person? They validate. But if you hang out with them too long they can really mess with your head.

I already have a cluster of labels. The first, “Neurological Endocrine Immunity Disorder,” given to me, I believe, to somehow honor and differentiate the level of cognitive issues I experience. Then there’s “Chronic Fatigue Immune Dsyfunction SyndromeFibromyalgia,  Adrenal Fatigue, PTSD,…” the list goes on.

The person cast into the role of The Autoimmune Warrior is likely to meet up with the cascade effect. Once one body system is overtaxed that can lead to another body system becoming overtaxed, so one label often leads to another.

But Lyme? Dear Lord, what I don’t need is another uphill battle, another medically-debated, often-discredited, only half-believed disease. Do I really have the mojo for this? The absolute last thing I need is a bacterial infection that requires treatment by annihilation. The medical weapon: A cannonball of fierce, gut destroying antibiotics.

My soul whispers to me that my immune system won’t survive the antibiotic plan. I am acutely aware that I have little defense against a cannonball. I tried that once and cheated death.

Eight years prior I almost died, my weight free-falling 17 pounds in two short weeks, landing below 100. One never forgets what it feels like when organs threaten to shut down while no medical cause reveals itself.

(Read bottom right corner of this link for antibiotic story.)

Was that the onset of this disease? I wonder. Could that go round with IV antibiotics have been enough to suppress the Lyme symptoms for a while?

Was this the proverbial catch 22? Because I was never the same again. My immune system didn’t recover. Back then, I didn’t know to take mega doses of probiotics to offset the flora damage. My health began it’s slow and steady decline.

I respect doctors and believe they choose their professions for the noble reason of helping others. A diagnosis can save life. But I’m not down with their little pills anymore. Through personal experience I’ve learned that while one manages the symptoms of chronic illness with synthetic drugs, the body gets torn down from the inside out. Medication may save me in catastrophic circumstances, but they aren’t going to heal me.

face of lymeRight now I need less destruction and more healing.

In contrast, as we left the alternative specialist’s office that day I had a healing plan, a way to support the body while it uses its innate God-given wisdom to heal. I’ve been telling myself that my body knows how to heal. I just haven’t found the key— the sacred code— that will unlock my healing door.

When I’d been inside the office listening to my new practitioner, he’d said to me, “Your body wants to heal. It’s got its own special code, a combination that will unlock the door to healing.”

Ding. Ding. Ding. We all know I watch for signs.

I left the office stunned, the beginning stages of grief settling in. There are so many of us living with autoimmune conditions, in fact, enough to be called  The Autoimmune Epidemic and yet it’s still a long, lonely road.

To look at me, it’s hard to believe that I’m not just a whiner or hypochondriac. Because I’m naturally thin, I look pretty fit.  When I use energy to put on make-up and curl my hair, not only do I look F.I.N.E, fine, I look healthy. On a good day I can still sound intelligent.

Driving home from the appointment Mom says to me, “Now, I hope you don’t get it in your head to go researching this like crazy.”

Who me? Go a little OCD on something? Turns out that’s one of the neurological symptoms of Lyme. I know this because I researched it. Chuckle.

Read more about that here. 

What I heard Mom saying was, “You don’t need to learn more, just get your treatment and be okay.”

But, that’s not me.

As I drove home I was alternating between feelings of devastation and incredible gratitude, pretty certain that my Creator had just delivered me to the answers I’ve desperately called out for in my heart.

Once I did get online, I recalled all the times I came right up to Lyme in my prior research, read the symptoms, felt my gut churn and quick exited the site. Just like my pancreas symptoms, some part of me knew and didn’t want it to be true.

Yolanda Foster, a woman from Beverly Hills Housewives recently became the face of Lyme disease. Watching the show last season, I could tell she didn’t feel well. What’s her story? I wondered.  Googling her name, I easily found her blog.

Yolanda Foster of Beverly Hills Housewives~ Looks healthy right?

Although to me she seems to be the most loving and down-to-earth lady on the show, on her blog she was subjected to cruel judgments. Her thinning hair was the topic of criticism by those commenting anonymously. Come on people, have a little compassion.

The mean comments on her blog reminded me of the mean comments made by my own mind in the TJ Maxx dressing room. “Your hair looks like straw.” 

I thought of the hairs I’m constantly finding clinging to my clothes, my car seat, my purse, my bedding and another chill of recognition went through me.

“Noooo,” I cried to myself, still protesting.

Then I found a video comment Yolanda made about watching herself on the show and witnessing her own struggle. She was challenged to participate in conversations, having difficulty verbally expressing her words. She said her mind was full of words— my mind is full of words. But neither of us can be certain we’ll get them out verbally if we need to. Her many neurological symptoms caused me to reflect on a post I wrote months ago in which I wondered if this is what autism feels like. Cold goose bumps ran down my arms again.

Full of all the information and sadness I could process for one night, I went to bed rippling with anxiety attacks, now understanding why I had strange sensations in my chest.

The next morning I was thinking about the brain limitations I work with. The variable, moving targets, are ever-present—a daily mental obstacle course.

If we are chatting, I cannot have the TV on, a phone ringing, music playing, noise outside, birds chirping loudly, or dog’s barking. Noises in the environment scramble my comprehension code. If you change topics quickly, or choose the wrong word for something, I lose track of you. If I manage to stay with you, it actually hurts.

One time, not long ago, I stepped up to the counter at Rubio’s to order lunch at the same time a boisterous woman stepped up beside me to order hers. As she bellowed out her order I became so discombobulated that I stood there staring at my order taker, unable to speak, unable to move, a visitor from the Twilight Zone.

Multi-tasking is something I once excelled at. Now it’s a story of days gone by. Four years ago my husband (ex) had a habit of talking to me while I was trying to pay for groceries. My brain would freeze up mid-process. Internally I’d get distressed, embarrassed to shut down in front of the Trader Joes clerk with a long line behind me. If my ex continued to talk to me I’d snap at him. He’d thereby get irritated with me or hurt, making me not only the jerk, but also the one who owed an apology. Once safely in the car, he’d try to get over his annoyance and I would cry, unable to explain what was happening inside.

Today I have a one track mind. Those who knew me during my Wonder Woman years are still adjusting to this. If I get interrupted while I’m writing, I struggle to find my path back to where I was in my brain. If I get interrupted when I’m talking I likely won’t remember what I was talking about. If I go off on a tangent—don’t expect me to circle around.

We’ve figured out only recently that I get a bit testy when being read aloud to. Whatever I can’t pace with starts to cause me mental discomfort. 

Perhaps one of the most significant changes, a huge effect that’s been going on eight years now, is that after twenty-four years in the finance business doing numbers and reasoning work, my brain now hates everything about numbers. Calculations, details, paying bills, following instructions and tax preparation were super easy before. Today I’d call them torturous.

On rare occasions, the stars align and I gain brief access, a glimpse, into the part of my brain that, for all those working years, was exceptionally good at documenting files, knew how to create and work within systems, made sense of numbers, was extremely organized and high functioning. It’s only ever a glimpse of the former me that I get to enjoy, but I hold onto it dearly, reveling in the hope it offers.

As vulnerable as I already feel, I cannot imagine where I’d be in my life today if I wasn’t conditioned by my business background. Some of the behavior that carries me today is habitual, rather than a result of thought. I’ve got “taking care of business” grooves ground into my brain, from years of workaholism. My heart goes out to all those on disability who are navigating without a business background. May the force be with you.

The writing you’re reading today IS NOT EASY for me to produce! But, it’s a healing method I use to express in writing what I can’t always find the verbal words to say. Writing is a labor of love that gives me a reason to live. Thank you, God.

And, thank you for reading.

To read more about the neurological aspects of Lyme Disease visit this link: http://www.lymediseaseaction.org.uk/about-lyme/neurology-psychiatry/

To read what I’ve learned about healthy grieving and emotional healing, as well as the myths and healing of Lyme, please sign up to receive upcoming posts. I’m pooped right now, as I’m sure you can imagine, but there’s more to come.

Wishing you all peace and love. Thank you for reading!

Kim

If you were here, please click Like on the links. I will understand that you don’t “like” that I’ve got Lyme. Your “like” helps me know that I’m not alone here on this page.

Disclosure: The errors likely to be contained within are also a symptom. Go easy on me. :)

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© 2014 Kim Vazquez All rights reserved. www.kimvazquez.com You may make copies of this message and distribute in any media as long as you change nothing, credit the author, and include this copyright notice and web address.

 

 

 

3 Days Only~ Sale on Living in the Rear View Mirror

I hope you are enjoying the holiday season!

As part of the celebration, I’m having a sale. Beginning Friday, December 20th, the download of Living in the Rear View Mirror will be offered on Amazon.com at the lowest price ever ~ $3.99.  You can still save on Saturday, December 21st buying the book for only $4.99. The last day of the sale will be Sunday, December 22nd when the price will be $5.99 until 6 pm, PST.

Hope you’ll check it out!

 Wishing you Peace & Love and a Merry Christmas!

Kim

 

There’s a Reason You’re Feeling Unsettled Right Now

feeling unsettledIt happened again on Saturday. I wandered around my house slowly moving from one activity to another unconsciously seeking engagement in activity that would make me feel settled.

I sat outside in the sun. Read a little bit. Rested. Spent some time sharing love with my number one fan, the neighbor’s cat. I helped my mom redo her bookcase. Got online for a minute. Planned a healthy meal in my head, but just could not rally to make it.

I was a zombie.

The settled feeling I was seeking never came.

I wasn’t upset, bored, or desperate to find something to do. I wasn’t restless or discontent. I was just seeking SOMETHING. Quietly. Peacefully. Unaware. The evening came and as I felt the internal pull to slowly move yet again to another activity, I finally remembered why:

This is the new normal.

Acceptance moved through me bringing with it the feeling I’d been seeking. Ahhh. There is nothing for me to do other than accept that feeling unsettled right now is normal.

The world is evolving.

Evolution is not a settled energy. As a planet we go through energetic growth spurts and when that happens humans experience this internally. It feels like being on shaky ground. And we literally are on shaky ground when Mother Earth vibrates intensely through these phases.

The message I hear within is:

“May you try to accept it and find peace in the knowledge that we are advancing. There is purpose to it. Lean into hope. It’s for the greater good.”

This also explains the intensity and tragic choices that some humans have made recently. Advancement is intense. It will magnify inner disharmony.

So, how does one move through these times as gracefully and comfortably as possible? I’m writing this post to share with you the divine guidance I’ve received. This advice is not just for me.reason you're unsettled

Picture your feet on two independently moving pieces of solid ground, I was told. (The visual was two tectonic plates moving side by side during the ground shift that causes an earthquake.)

Rather than lock your knees in place, bend your knees, allowing each piece of ground to move freely, rocking back and forth, or side to side gently, as necessary to be in flow.

(I can still see the visual and it looks like I’m ground surfing. Smile.)

It would be best if you don’t expect both pieces beneath your feet to settle down and lock together to become one solid inflexible piece, the advice continued.

Those days are over. (Forever? I don’t know.)

Accept that things have changed and the ground is going to continue to move beneath your feet. The unexpected should be expected. Unsettled is the new feeling of settled. Flowing is the new feeling of grounded.

You’re encouraged to let go of trying to get back to “How I used to feel.”

It’s true; your old ways of getting grounded and meditating are not working the same in this new paradigm. It’s okay. That doesn’t mean that something is wrong. Your practices are still good to use~ but not out of habit, as if on auto-pilot. You will need to stop and ask yourself~ Does it FEEL right to you?

Much of this current energy shift is to move you out of your old comfy habits and further into your Feeling Self. “Learned behavior” isn’t working for you now because you are meant to stop and feel what it is that you should do next.

Please give yourself a break and let go of the frustration you feel when your old “good habits” can no longer produce “the old feeling.”

It’s still okay. Everything is still okay.

You are being assisted with the release of your old measuring sticks. We encourage you to let the practice of measuring go without a second thought. It doesn’t serve you. 

Accept change. Accept yourself in every state without chastising. Accept that others are uncomfortable as well and need your compassion more than judgment. 

Yes, there are loud, intrusive voices of discontent in the media right now. It’s part of the process. There is always a higher purpose.

The route to the peace you seek lies in This Very Moment. There may be a vortex moving around you, you may see it peripherally, but what affects you is what you choose to bring into your awareness through your focus. Look for beauty, joy and love and you will still find it. 

Peace & Love to you all,

Kim

If you like what you see here, please help me spread the love! Tweet it, share it on Facebook or email a friend with the link. All the handy links are at the bottom of this page to make it easy. Many thanks for your help. I appreciate it!

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© 2013 Kim Vazquez All rights reserved. www.kimvazquez.com You may make copies of this message and distribute in any media as long as you change nothing, credit the author, and include this copyright notice and web address.

 

The Meaning of Finding Coins: The “Signs” in Life

One of the most popular posts on this site is one entitled Is There a Spiritual Message in Finding Coins? The stories shared on this page have something in common: The events around finding coins are unusual enough to make one feel a sense of awe.

Many people seem to find comfort in “pennies from heaven.” Others, the questioners of the world, like me, want to know “Why?” Why do I keep finding change in weird places?

For those who ask “Why?” my answer is, first, please do not allow anyone else to define what your moments of awe should mean to you. You are the expert on the meaning of your own signs. The same is true of your own gut instinct.

If you’re here seeking and really hope I’m going to provide an answer to this mystery, I’m going to give you some generalizations. I hope you’ll also stick around to read today’s story. It’s about “the signs” we get in life. 

If I were to choose a general meaning, I believe that finding coins is communication with the Divine.

Here’s some insight that may help you if you have recently been finding coins under weird circumstances:

Have you been feeling alone? You have just been shown that you are not alone. Your Creator is with you. Your loved ones are with you. Your angels and guides are with you.

Have you been running at Mach 10 speed lately? When we move fast, we are in essence spending time outside of our bodies. Finding change in this instance could be a reminder that you are missing the wonder in the world all around you. Consider this might be a nudge from above to get present. Breathe deeply and look around. What do you see? Take a moment to notice the wonder of the world and allow it to lift you up, to lighten your load.

Does your thinking tend to be very factual, logical, or dare I say, a little rigid? Some things cannot be explained and that is awesome! When you experience a real sense of wonder you have an opportunity to decide what to do with that wonder. Could there be something more to this life than you originally thought?  Do you think about the Creator energy, the Father/Mother of humankind? Does “the unexplainable” help you to consider that you may be connected to something much greater?

The world is so magical! Not so much Harry Potter magical~ Divinely magical. No matter what we try to control, we are reminded  that all things are in the hands of a guiding energy that’s so much more powerful than us. All things are not meant to be categorized and explained. That’s the fun of it all.

Fortuna~ The Roman Goddess of Fortune

Are you feeling financially insecure? If you find money when you are worried about money, I’d consider it reassurance. I believe this to be direct communication: Your worries have been heard and acknowledged. Once you know that your concerns have been duly noted, consider releasing the fear to the wonder because fear is a blocking energy. Choose faith and allow the Universe to provide.

If you’re like me, I like to try and figure out the ways in which the Creator may provide. I look for potential so I can soothe my mind. When I do this, I’m trying to come up with options for God using a human mind. Why would I want to limit the unlimited?

Do you have a question on your heart? Have you been praying for an answer? Sometimes it helps to back track to exactly what we were thinking about the moment the change was found. Were you considering an action? When you find change the second time were you considering the same action? Look for repeat patterns. These can be affirmations. This is a little more tricky to sort out, but you will get better at it over time. Today’s story has this example in it.

The Signs Are All Around You

Today I’m posting to share my most recent story about finding change and how I accepted it as part of guidance, an affirmation to continue on the path I was on. My Loving Source knows that I interpret the finding of coins as communication. It’s become part of our ongoing conversation.

How do I know that this conversation is with the Source of Light? Because when it happens, it feels like Love. I’m often totally amused. When God winks, I giggle and answer out loud~ I see you.

Recently, I did a blog post about what’s going on behind the scenes in my life as a person experiencing chronic illness. When the idea to do so first arrived, I protested. That’s normal. Right away another idea popped in~ raffle off a cool chair that I had up-cycled to raise money for health treatments.

Groan. Speak about those two things in one post? I knew if it was something I was supposed to do the idea would gain momentum with no help from me. I tried to ignore this inspiration.

What’s the point of writing about illness at all? What am I going to do? Give a manifesto of my current complaints? What do I have to share that might help others? I’m still learning to maneuver the ebbs & flows of this part of the journey.

I could see me running into someone I know after they read my “True Life” story. Would their faces show me that all they can see in me is illness? No, thank you.

I considered my Ego. He’s super slick. I listened as he informed me that if I tell the world and accept help from others, when I run into someone I know in public, in order to justify that help, I need to make sure they can tell I’m sick.

So, Ego, just to clarify~ what you are telling me is that I need to be sure and ACT SICK because that’s what’s expected of me now?

What if I’m having a good day?

Therein lies a test of awareness. I cannot function on autopilot. I need to monitor for the stories and not listen to ego nonsense. I NEED to claim every single second of feeling good that I can. If I’m so tired today that I can’t bring myself to shower but wake up tomorrow feeling rested and pain free, I need to turn the music up, dance around and embrace a “Woo Hoo” kind of day.

One of the biggest invitations hidden in my health situation is to learn about authenticity. Imagine if we were all were in the habit of checking in with our bodies and minds to note our feelings and energy levels and then adjusted our actions accordingly. 

What if you didn’t have to push yourself to rest,

or push yourself to do more?

My job is to be in touch with my body, authentic in each moment, allowing each moment the right to be whatever it is. It’s a good idea for me to monitor myself for any “act” by continually asking: How do I really feel right now?

It’s not only that the ego could tell me to “act sick because it’s expected of me.” That same darn ego is responsible for me also “acting just fine” when I feel like crap. We are taught to “act” one way or another. It’s comes almost effortlessly to most of us.

My last protest to God had to do with the whole attention thing. Yes, I do lay it all out here on the blog, so you may be shocked to know that I strongly dislike calling attention to myself and only “go all transparent on you” when I’m strongly compelled by The Force to do so.

With these concerns in mind, I began a conversation with my maker- Do you really want me to write about this? I don’t know why. I don’t know how. I don’t see the point.

That night I walked into my room holding a binder in my hand. I decided, quite randomly, to put the binder on the very bottom of a bookshelf which is tucked behind a dresser, in the corner of my room. There were much easier places to set the binder down. I had to get in an uncomfortable position, reaching forward in a semi-squat. Right in the space I was trying to shove binder was a bright, shiny, penny.

Walk this way..

Walk this way..

I smiled. Okay, I told God. That was cute, but if you want me to really take this idea seriously, I’m going to need more.

Soon after, ideas and instruction began to arrive in my awareness. I still felt resistant. But, my brain hurts, I whimpered. Setting up a raffle, creating a blog post, figuring out my website yet again~ Overwhelming! Because I don’t retain what I’ve learned, each new blog post requires me to figure it all out again. There’s a word for that. Tedious. I loathe the tedious.

Okay, okay, God, I said. I’ll try.

Going into my office the next morning, I sat at the computer, with willingness, but very little expectation of myself. I haven’t been able to write in months.

On this day, to my great surprise I was easily able to write. As the post  took form, I started to see that it was more than what may be perceived as whining. Whew.

I paused to take my awe in. I could hardly believe that I was writing coherently! I took a deep breath to connect to the joy of this feeling, looked around the room and then down at the floor.

Right next to my foot was a shiny quarter.

Combined with the way the post was flowing, the quarter felt like an affirmation that I was doing the right thing.

Once I finish a post I usually let it go for a day or so, so it can talk to me and tell me if something needs to be fixed. As I went about my day I found myself crying a lot. I found myself scared. I was about to put my heart out there and risk finding out that no one cares.

sunny-nature-landscape---child-cute

This gave me an opportunity to sit with this fear and ask it to show me where it came from. The thread of this fear that~ how I feel doesn’t matter~ led back to the five-year-old me. That five-year-old also learned to keep quiet about what she what going through and to not bother anyone with her problems.

I could see this clearly so I asked the Creator this question~ Was that the whole purpose of me writing about this?

Can I get another coin, please? Then we can be done here. No actual posting needed.

With no affirmation that I was done, I began to dread the rest of the process. Ideas were still forthcoming: Create links within the page. Create an opt-in mailing list for future crafty stuff. Put different Paypal buttons with options for raffle tickets.

This is way too much for a neurological impairment. Yes, it’s a good idea for me to stretch the brain a bit in order to exercise it. What’s not a good stretch? The intense frustration I feel when I sit down intending to do something, then get confused, then force my way through it. When I pay bills or try to balance my bank account I can feel my brain running around erratically within my head, slamming up against the walls of my skull like it wants to escape its abuser. Sigh.

There’s a fine line between a good stretch and blowing the circuitry. I used to be capable of a lot, so I often misjudge my current capacity and fry the motherboard.

I decided to just take the next step.

I’m not capable of seeing my errors or ensuring that I’m following a train of thought, so my posts should be professionally edited (obviously, they are all not). A good friend volunteered to edit my post and I felt myself relax. I had bought some time.

Wrong. He reviewed it and sent it back right away. A remarkably clean edit. Very surprising. Something was definitely going on.

All righty then. I decided to take one more step. I set about the task of transferring my writing to Word press and formatting it. Next, I slowly allowed myself to relearn some technical detail stuff. Staying in the moment, I found each thing came together steadily and remarkably without internal brain drama.

Somebody pinch me. This is a BIG DEAL! It’s not just that I haven’t been able to write. I have content for the website that’s been ready to roll out for years now. It waits because I’ve been unable to finish simply setting it up to roll out, a process a lot easier than all the technical stuff I’d now just done. I haven’t been able to do even simple things!

A hush came over me. I was at maximum awe level. Who am I?

I often stop to marvel at life happenings which opens space for insight. I finally truly and totally accepted that without a shadow of a doubt, I was meant to tell my story.

But~ Why? 

I needed to rest my brain so I took a break. I sat down on the couch to rejuvenate myself with an episode of Super Soul Sunday. Oprah’s guest was author, Brene Brown. I don’t know Brene. Yet, as she began to speak of courage and vulnerability I knew I was listening to a soul sister.

Truth is, I don’t know if this actually happened, or if I’m delusional. I’ve since went back and tried to find the part of the episode where Brene says these words and couldn’t. But on that particular day as I took a break from wrapping up my post I heard her say that “She sometimes doesn’t know why she writes about the stuff that she does.” She thinks “That part of her gift is putting the words to things that others might be able to relate to.”

I felt the sense of knowing come over me. I’m very aware that I’m not alone with chronic illness. Maybe I’d been able to give voice to the experience of many.

There was the answer. I knew it had to be about more than me!

Naturally, the next thing I did was try to figure out what the Creator’s next steps would be. Would my raffle be a success because I’m a good girl following her guidance? Or, would it bomb and I’d grow through disappointment, still rewarded by having been true to myself and willing to stand in complete vulnerability? That alone is empowering. Or, would a wholly different meaning be revealed?

Before I hit the publish button, I let all thoughts go with my final prayer.

doveI release all attachment to the outcome and give all of my wonder to you. I won’t wonder any more about the reasons and I will wait for you, my Creator, to reveal to me what it is I need to know. 

Peace came, along with a sprinkle of joy. Little did I know at that moment how much awe would follow. It’s definitely an awe-some life.

Peace & Love~

Kim

P.S. Today is not the same. It’s not an easy brain day, so please forgive any apparent errors.

To read the story referenced in this post click here: Fundraiser for Health 

To visit the first post about finding change click here: Is there a Spiritual Message in Finding Coins?

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© 2013 Kim Vazquez All rights reserved. www.kimvazquez.com You may make copies of this message and distribute in any media as long as you change nothing, credit the author, and include this copyright notice and web address.

Get Living in the Rear View Mirror as a Free Download May 11th Only

Big news!!

For the first time ever, I am offering my first book

Living in the Rear View Mirroras a free download for one day only, May 11th, 2013. Offer ends at midnight PST. I hope you’ll take advantage of this download and I’d love to hear from you once you’ve read it!

Click the picture of the book on the upper left corner to be taken to the free download area.

Peace & Love to you all~

Kim

 

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