Rest + Healing 11s
1. Friday at 10am, I got back into bed and slept for two hours. Saturday afternoon, after a nice morning at my parents' and a silly movie at home with my daughter, a dusky catnap on the couch. Three days of headache finally clearing. More naps forthcoming.
2. When the first morning light shone through from behind the tall pines, the ice glinted and glittered as it began to melt.
3. I haven't run in months and I miss it. Left knee needs TLC. Confession: my PCP gave me a handout of at-home rehab exercises, and I've been spotty in doing them. I really need to hold myself to two weeks of being diligent before pursuing next steps, likely a referral for PT.
4. A friend shared an article yesterday about antidepressants -- their efficacy as well as the challenges many people experience when going off of them. I tried this in 2019, and wound up tanking and going back on, albeit at half the original dose of Celexa. I have taken an SSRI since 1995. I originally went on Zoloft at the age of 21, with no psychological oversight or treatment. It's a long story, as these things always are, but suffice it to say, I'm ready to try again but instead of tapering over the course of a few months, I'm thinking I'll do it over the course of a much longer period, perhaps even an entire year.
5. I'm also thinking a lot about forgiveness this morning in the wake of Archbishop Tutu's death. Rabbi Tirzah Firestone, whose book "Wounds Into Wisdom" I'm currently reading (and underlining like mad), writes that two elements are necessary for the telling of our stories: "a safe witness and the ripeness of time." Recognizing one's own readiness for this work, and respecting one another's timelines, is so crucial.
6. Back to the knee -- part of it is strengthening the muscles *around* it. We must shore up other parts of ourselves and our lives -- friendships and expressive practices come to mind -- in order to create conditions for tending to the injured parts.
7. My next tattoo appointment is January 16, two days after my birthday. The lower part of the branch the chickadee is perched on is going to become the aorta of an anatomical heart, which will have flowers coming out of it. The chickadee will be growing out of the heart.
8. When my heart is flourishing -- that's when I sing. And singing -- or writing, in my case -- also helps to continue healing the wounded, tender parts.
9. None of this is a linear process or a one-shot deal. It's the ongoing work of a lifetime, a reinforcing loop, the iterative result of both the conscious work, the steadfast presence of my cherished safe witnesses, and the ineffable effects of time.
10. Throw in plenty of naps, slow walks, dog snuggles, and espresso-infused brownies.
11. The more we heal, the more present we can be to others' suffering and the more range of movement we can have, both literally and figuratively. Caring for ourselves is never separate from our work in the world; it's the basis for it.