Patience In the Eye of A Storm

Everything was very dramatic 12 days ago. Flying around the world, discovering things growing in Tobi's brain, being pregnant, private doctors. The days following our arrival back in Portland have been decidedly anti-climactic from an external perspective and yet, like ripples on a pond post stone throw, a new life has been inexorably emerging.

With Tobias' new Rules of Engagement, for example, he is exploring the relationship dynamics between public transit, the weather and his energy levels. You'd think on first glance that not driving wouldn't be SO hard, yet it reaches into so many aspects of life in these States.

Of course there is the personal level of him not being able to jump in the car and just drive to the store if he forgot the cheese for a dinner recipe. There is the
relational aspect which not only makes it necessary for him to ask for rides from his wife but also, his wife (me) being acutely aware of wanting to support his mobility and hence feeling the need to be on call as his personal chauffer. Not that he would ever ask for that, it's just one of those things I find myself wanting to be able to offer him so he feels as free as possible. And that of course impacts his willingness to schedule things far and afield and my freedom to go where I want when I want cause what if he needs to get to a friend who can really support him and the max gets delayed in the cold, rainy weather?

In perfect health, neither of us would think too much of this, but then there is the emotional/psychological/spiritual reality to face which is that he has something in his brain that is making discomforting things happen in his body, which necessitates him taking medicine that makes him tired, forgetful and a little loopy.

Top that off with the fact that he is off work and really wanting to be engaged in meaningful ways to spend his time...with no clear idea of what that means as of yet. Throw in a dash of endless phone calls and chasing down referrals, following up on faxes (WHY is the medical world in this country incapable of communicating unless it is via a FAX?!?) to schedulers only to be given appointments 2 months later, and one begins to wonder what exactly western medicine is good for when you could really use some functional support. I imagine you can sense the frustration in my words here.

From my personal standpoint, I KNOW what I would be doing if I were in his shoes. I would be meditating daily, doing alternative therapies wherever I could get my hands on them, planning ceremony to understand the messages my body is sending to me and having as much energy work as I could round up. Journalling. Drumming. Dancing it up. But that's me. Not him.

A dear friend gave me a message from Source before I left to fetch Tobias from Denmark. She said, "Remember this phrase throughout your coming journey."

We are on this path together as sovereign beings.

Pause. Breathe. 

This is not happening in MY body. This is HIS physical journey. HIS spiritual awakening. HIS initiation on the bodily plane.

Meanwhile, I have a path to walk. I have my own initiation arriving because of this experience. I have my own body to tend to and continue to balance. Only I can do me. Only he can do him.

This is a Great Lesson. When do we get a clearer mandate to focus on our own growth while simultaneously supporting and witnessing someone we love walking their own profound journey? Never has this felt more immediate. Never has it felt more challenging. Nor more necessary.

I absolutely have to take care of myself, not just because I am pregnant but also because I am only just emerging into fullness from my own healing crucible. If I want to support Tobias, I HAVE to concurrently prioritize my own well-being.

If ever paradox were relevant, it'd be now. Gotta be selfish to be selfless.

Gotta be patient to get shit done.

I read in an article somewhere yesterday that said peace of mind is the gold which makes all of life's ups and downs affordable.

That's what I'm aiming for-peace in the storm, stillness in the chaos.

Some days I think we've nailed it. Today, the swells are high and the boat seems small. But if life is any consolation, I am equally certain that tomorrow we could sight land and find the buried treasure.