SARAH WOLF | WRITER, READER, GAMER
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My Inner Worlds
Today Matt and I celebrated twenty-five years of marriage with two naps, yoga, meditation, writing, and dinner at my favorite restaurant Cowfish. We planned a low-key day because our gift to one another was being debt-free. For the first time in our married life, we owe no one money. It’s a cool way to memorialize our first quarter of a century together. And in the universe’s supportive style, the title to my car arrived in this afternoon’s mail. Registration for an integration workshop in Arizona opened up this weekend, and we are set to explore our inner selves more deeply in 2018. Matt has some big professional plans that should unfold over the next several months, and we are excited to experience the change that it will bring into our world. I want to get back into writing fiction, but that resurrection can’t occur until my workload lifts in February. Before anything, though…yoga. Straying from my yoga practice since early November has shown me how much my body needs the regular sweating, stretching, and connective tissue care. That has to come first in my decisions on what I will transform in this new phase of our lives. Here’s to a happier, healthier, and more integrated year for all of us.
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Technically, it’s half a snow day since my office opens at noon. Also, I could work from home, so I really don’t get a snow day. But I’ve taken this morning's hint from nature and slowed down. When the weather shuts down a city (as a dusting will do in the Southeast), it’s wise to also take a moment or two to go inside and see what’s happening. My body has been whimpering for yoga. The past couple of months have been my busy time at work, so my yoga practice has suffered. I’ve accepted this is the natural flow of the year for me, for as long as I have my current job. Since I love my job, I’m accepting the cycle of church accounting life. Enter snow day. My yoga mat unrolled itself in my exercise room. My Yin props floated to the floor from the corner where they have gathered dust for weeks. And I enjoyed over an hour of quiet, except for listening to my body telling me that all the progress I made with six solid months of yoga practice will be for naught if I don’t have a plan for a semi-practice during the winter months. Either my yoga instructor sees me regularly, or my chiropractor does. I’d rather spend my time and money at the studio because I feel awesome every time I leave. As I write I’m eating a hot breakfast, not my usual fare during the week. Taking the opportunity to leave routine is fun. Now I have to figure out if it’s safe for me to drive on this road…
Two weeks ago I had a dream. Laid out on a tray in my kitchen were bananas, broccoli, potatoes, and something else wholesome that I don’t recall. Resting in front of me on the counter was one pomegranate cut open to expose the seeds. When I woke, I felt these foods would be helpful for me to eat at this time. “This time” being one of a major allergic reaction where my eyes have swollen half-way shut and look like I got punched in the face. Am I being dramatic? Only slightly. Prednisone helped, but I've stopped taking it after four weeks of being on that weight-gaining steroid (seriously, it makes me eat). I still have a bottle of the pills just waiting for me to get desperate enough to pop them. Nine days without them and my eyes look as bad as they ever have. I won’t post a picture because it’s not attractive. In my OCD ways, though, I snap a picture every morning to photo-journal the progression of this rogue allergy I can’t figure out. My eyes have swollen and burned for no apparent reason exactly three times in my life. The first time was in my mid-twenties when I worked in the tax department of a very large, well-known company that I won’t name. The office environment was toxic and filled with the presence of a sexual predator who eventually got a promotion because enough of us women complained to HR. And no, I don’t recommend this path for your own career progression. My eyes come into the story because I got this “rogue allergy” that wouldn’t go away and whose cause couldn’t be determined. I got relief by taking mega medicine that knocked me out cold so I had to stay home from work. Oddly enough, I’d get better after a day off. I finally learned the pattern that after two days in the office, my eyes swelled shut so I’d have to take the pills and stay home. Once that knowledge kicked in, I found a new job and the allergy went away. Fast forward seven years and the same allergy returned. Matt and I had separated, so my emotions were running high. I also gave up sugar for good at this time—it was a barrier between Matt and me, as any addiction is in a relationship. My eyes swelled, burned, itched, and basically drove me mad. My traditional doctor didn’t believe me about the reactions I experienced when I ate sugar, so I sought out a naturopath and went through a cleansing diet. If you’ve never done a cleansing, you are blessed. I hate them because all the toxins stored in the body come out and make life miserable. But I was already miserable and figured it couldn’t get any worse. Matt and I had seen the movie The Mothman Prophecies, where people had red burning eyes from exposure to this mythological (or not) creature. Pulled by this clue that maybe I had run into Mothman, I read the book and researched into this phenomenon. And here is where my memories end. Somehow my eyes healed without me doing anything specific. Was it the cleansing diet? Was it reconciling with my husband? Did Mothman stop surreptitiously visiting my house while I slept? I’ll never know. Because I don’t have any idea how this reaction cleared in the past, I’m following all the weird clues in my life. As I write this, I’m eating pomegranate seeds and beseeching the lord of the underworld for mercy. [Public service announcement: if you are experiencing an allergic reaction, please see a doctor. I don’t mention it above because it isn’t humorous, but I am seeking medical care and will continue to do so until my eyes are back to normal.] As we move into true autumn weather in mid-North Carolina, I’m aware of how blessed and full my life has become. While I’ve had my struggles and low points in life, their memory magnifies the joy and peace I’m learning to accept as a natural way of living. My job is one I love, both the actual work and the people who surround me each day. I work hard beginning this time of year, and it won’t end until February. But again, I love the work. Summers have become sweeter as I’ve learned to enjoy the slow time and use it for fun, personal connection with family, friends, and with my deeper self. I’m astounded that Matt and I have the relationship we do. We’ve worked hard (that word again) to get to this place, but neither of us regret the time we took to work through the past obstacles life and our own stubbornness placed before us. I am so incredibly grateful for my morning hours and a supportive partner who gives me that time to myself. Matt gets up with me at the crack of dawn, although he’s not a morning person. I settle into my meditation chair with a comfy blanket, a heated neck wrap, my journal, and a cool fountain pen…while Matt feeds the dogs and makes me tasty french-pressed coffee that he delivers to my side table fixed exactly how I like it. There are evenings when I can’t wait to wake up and take that first sip of coffee. It’s that perfect for me. Our lives will always have those irritants that want us to choose their importance over what matters most in our hearts. Some days I fall for their wily shouts and cries of inequity. As I grow in love for all that is, I’m able to overlook that noise more than I could even last spring and hold close to me what truly is my chosen—the beauty in all that surrounds us. |
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