Sacred Witness

The Blessings of Chronic Pain

Carla Royal — Thu, 29 Jul 2010 12:08:29 +0000

I love being so physically active—even in the 100 degree heat. I’m amazed that the Georgia heat doesn’t bother me. I thought I’d have a difficult time adjusting from the northeast to the southheat but it is clear that my body is made for this kind of weather. My skin has turned a rich dark brown and sweating all day feels like a deep cleanse, better than a sauna. Working and living on this tiny horse farm is good for my body. I am stronger now than I’ve been in years and getting stronger by the day. My body gets tired and sore but welcomes the challenge. It’s a challenge I couldn’t have taken a year or two ago.

I have a condition called Chronic Myofascial Pain (CMP) and possibly a mild case of Fibromyalgia, at least that’s how I’ve been diagnosed. CMP is caused by fascia (the connective tissue surrounding all organs and muscles throughout the body) that is too rigid and widespread trigger points in the muscles. At least that’s my understanding of it. The condition can cause quite a bit of pain, pain that is always present though varying in intensity. A flare up (intense, flaming pain) can last anywhere from a couple of days to several months. It can be excruciating. I’m fortunate to only have occasional, short-lived flare ups these days. A few years ago, I would have them for months at a time and they could be debilitating.

I have a certain level of gratitude for this condition because it lead to huge life-style changes, changes I may not have had the courage to make otherwise. I love my life-style. It is simpler, slower, and healthier. There is more space, connection, and freedom. I get to play with horses and dogs all day, after all! I have time to sit on my balcony and watch the horses, geese, and ducks. I get to learn about plants and feed the birds. I have time to write this blog and read multiple books. I get to float on the lake.

I work hard but it’s flexible, breathable work. It is work that is good for the body and good for the soul. The life-style changes I’ve made have enabled me to heal physically and spiritually. I can thank chronic pain, at least in part, for that healing.

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Post tags: chronic myofascial pain, chronic pain, connection, Courage, fibromyalgia, Freedom, Gratitude, horses, life style changes

Life Urge

Carla Royal — Wed, 28 Jul 2010 12:56:26 +0000

Baby wrens were born in the garage. I watched them and sang to them many days. Finally, they fledged from their nest but two of them didn’t leave the garage. For several days, they awkwardly flapped around, too afraid or weak to venture out of their place of safety. I could hear the mother or father constantly calling for them to come out into the world. I watched the parents feed them and coax them. They were tireless in their attempts. I urged the birds on from afar. I sang to them, did reiki for them, hoped for them. After several days, I began to worry that something might be wrong. I desperately wanted them to live. It almost seemed that I needed them to live. Why did I care so much?

It was the same with the baby cliff swallows at Daddy’s house. They built a nest on his front porch, under the eave. Daddy let them stay, even though they made such a mess. He seemed as intrigued as I was. Soon they started perching on the eave but didn’t fly away. I decided to photograph them there, as they didn’t seem to mind my presence. I was careful to turn off the flash so as not to startle them but when I pressed the shutter they all leapt from their perch. I was the one startled! I could hear Daddy inside screech with delight as they flew. I rushed in to help Daddy down the stairs. Together we watched the babies fly. They flew with amazing grace and ease, circling above us, as if for us. It was a wonderful few moments watching them dance together in the sky. It was even more wonderful sharing the moments with Daddy. Still, I was worried that I had made them fly too early. I was concerned until I heard that they all returned to the nest that night, flying off for good the next day.

Life is an astoundingly strong urge. It pushes to give expression, as the blade of grass pushes through the concrete. I felt the life urge for the fledgling birds, and when the baby wrens finally left the garage, I was ecstatic. I don’t know why it was so important to me that they survive. Maybe it’s that I love life so deeply. Maybe it’s that my father has cancer and seeing new life soothes me.

Either way, I’m grateful for the new life and old that surrounds me in each moment.

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© Carla for Sacred Witness, 2010. | Permalink | 3 comments | Add to del.icio.us
Post tags: bird, dad, fledgling birds, fly, Gratitude, leap, love, lung cancer

Circling the Journal

Carla Royal — Tue, 27 Jul 2010 13:07:51 +0000

While floating in the lake watching the feather drift, I saw Pedro suddenly jump up from where he had been sleeping. Something startled him and he began barking. I peered in more closely to see what could have given him the heebeegeebees, and I saw that my journal was flapping in the wind on top of a chair. Pedro was now circling the journal barking, leaping back, barking, circling. I had a good laugh watching him.

I’m the one circling the journal this morning. My journal and blog serve as a place of expression, examination, and even accountability. It has become an extension of my meditation. Dainin Katagiri Roshi said, “If you go deep enough in writing, it will take you everyplace.”

I feel the truth in those words. I think that’s why I circle my journal. Sometimes, I’m afraid of going so deeply. This morning, I feel fidgety and restless, ready to get onto my next morning practice. I’m not sure hurrying through one practice in order to get to another can really be considered practice! On the other hand, perhaps it is. Perhaps having the discipline to continue to write, when I’d rather not, is the practice, like an itch that swells while sitting in meditation. The instruction is to simply watch the urge with no attempt to fix or change it, until it passes. In this way, I slowly learn to release my attachment to this feeling or that sensation, no longer identifying with them so strongly.

Journaling is one way I attempt to let things surface, witness them, and move on. Rather than festering beneath the surface, I bring my attention to them. At that point, I can deal with them consciously and with intention.

Like Pedro, I circle the journal until I see that there is no threat. In fact, the journal is a wonderful conduit for going more deeply. I can trust the process.

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Post tags: attachment, discipline, intention, Meditation, practice

Watch Yourself

Carla Royal — Mon, 26 Jul 2010 13:25:59 +0000

“Watch yourself. Every minute we change. It is a great opportunity. At any point, we can step out of our frozen selves and our ideas and begin fresh.” Natalie Goldberg

It’s my day off and I’m at the lake. I want to relax but things distract me and bring me down. I’d like to lighten up. I don’t want to talk about this problem or that. I want to be as light as the goose feathers at my feet. I want to float along with the feather sailing on the water at the whim of the wind. I want to fly as lightly as the damselfly silently gliding over the sparkling water. I want to soar with the vultures as they climb, climb, climb the thermals without a flap of the wing. I want to drift as softly and slowly as the billowing clouds. But, I’m frustrated. I’m angry that I feel like lead.

Now I watch myself. I notice how quickly I go from singing to being frustrated and heavy. Am I this susceptible to the changing winds? Do these winds actually have the power to bring me down so easily? I am curious.

How, in this moment, do I step out of my frozen self and begin fresh?

I will try an experiment.

So I put down my journal and went into the lake to watch the floating feather. I noticed sunscreen drifting away because I had forgotten to take it out of the back pocket of my swim shorts. I swam after it and laughed at myself. I found lip balm floating, too, and caught it. I was still a little irritable but noticed that it was more of an act than a reality. Part of me wanted to hold onto my tetchiness. In that acknowledgement, I was able to release it and relax. I let the water wash away the last remnants. I felt the support of the water surround my heavy body. I repeated my mantra, “All shall be well. All shall be well.” I let the words break through my frozen self until I felt the truth of them. I allowed in the kindness and support of my partner. We floated together while the Osprey and King Fisher hunted in the little cove.

The experiment worked, and Natalie Goldberg’s words are true, we can step out of our frozen selves and our ideas and begin fresh in any given moment.

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Fascinated to See

Carla Royal — Fri, 23 Jul 2010 13:02:38 +0000

I had no idea, until a friend brought it to my attention, that I started this blog six months ago, today. Wow, I am pleased. This has been a wonderful, creative outlet for me, and I am grateful.

Sometimes I wonder why I write this blog every day. I don’t fully understand it, but something compels me. I have a feeling I do it for reasons that I cannot yet fathom. It is almost as if the process has a hold of me rather than vice versa. It is doing something in me—writing/creating me. Odd as it may sound, this is how it feels. It only asks that I’m faithful to it. It only asks that I put pen to paper whether or not anyone reads it, whether or not it’s any good, whether or not I want to do it on any given day. So I do put pen to paper, fingers to keys, characters to computer screen, and hit publish.

It may sound like I am a disciplined person, but I’m not. I am really rather stubborn and lazy when it comes to something I don’t want to do. Ask anyone who knows me well. But in this case I feel compelled. I’m sure you know what I mean. I’m certain you have felt compelled. Have you ever felt compelled for reasons you did not understand? Did you go with it or resist it? What was/is the experience like for you? I am genuinely curious.

For whatever reason, I am doing this thing and I am fascinated to see what unfolds.

Today, I offer my gratitude to that which compels me and to you, my readers. Thanks for coming along on this ride with me.

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© Carla for Sacred Witness, 2010. | Permalink | 3 comments | Add to del.icio.us
Post tags: creative outlet, discipline, Gratitude, impulse

Meaningful Moments

Carla Royal — Thu, 22 Jul 2010 13:53:40 +0000

I’m sitting in the oncology treatment room with daddy. He is sleeping beside me as the IV drips. An elegant woman arrived earlier with a beautiful harp. She is playing heavenly, angel-music for us all. Peace floats through the room.

While getting crackers for daddy in the tiny snack room, I found a calendar with photos of people who have survived cancer. I flipped through it and found a quote that resonated with me from Amy Winn, a breast cancer survivor. She said, “People think, I’ll get through this and when I get to the other side I’ll pick my life back up, but there is meaningful life during treatment as well.”

There is meaningful life during treatment, during illness, during difficult times. Often it only takes a few deep breaths to bring me into the fullness of the moment, able to see the life, the good there. Sometimes, it’s a matter of digging through the resistance of the difficult or painful to find the treasure. Many times, it’s a simple matter of giving a little push on the resistance until it releases. Either way, it takes intention, awareness, and desire.

In the end, I find that it takes less energy to do the work of intention and awareness than to stay stuck in the resistance, though there are still times I stay stuck. Even in those stuck moments I can find meaning when I extend curiosity and gentleness towards myself.

Yes, I’ve experienced many meaningful moments during this time of daddy’s illness and treatment, and I believe he would say the same. I treasure these healing moments. Daddy and I are connecting in ways never before possible.

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Post tags: curiosity, deep breaths, difficult times, gentleness, intention, meaningful life, meaningful moments, oncology, oncology treatment, peace

From Ordinary to Extraordinary

Carla Royal — Wed, 21 Jul 2010 14:02:21 +0000

Have you ever experienced the extraordinary in the ordinary? I have, many times. I had such a moment with my father yesterday. After our return from oncology and lunch, daddy asked if I would be willing to cut his toenails and fingernails. I said of course. He decided we should sit on the porch so nail clippings wouldn’t fall in his freshly cleaned house. We walked out to the porch into the 100-degree heat. Daddy, exclaimed, “Ah, this feels good.” He is often chilly these days and it is difficult to keep warm enough. He wore corduroys and flannel to oncology for that very reason.

At daddy’s request, I swept off two of the chairs and we sat. I took one of his feet into my lap and inspected his toes. The nails were surprisingly long. At first, I was tentative. I couldn’t remember ever clipping another person’s nails. Is it possible that at almost a half-century-old I have never clipped someone’s nails? I made the first clip and daddy jumped a little…I jumped more. He said that I hadn’t hurt him and that he would yell if I did. Small comfort that was!

As I continued to clip, I relaxed into the process and began to enjoy the work. Cutting someone’s nails is a surprisingly intimate and tender exchange. Giving and receiving. Trust and love. Vulnerability and openness. It was an ordinary moment turned extraordinary as I brought my presence and love to it. It was a moment of sweet connection.

Through the simple act of cutting daddy’s nails, I am reminded that awareness and presence can transform an ordinary moment and transform me.

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© Carla for Sacred Witness, 2010. | Permalink | 3 comments | Add to del.icio.us
Post tags: connection, oncology, openness, ordinary moment, Presence, relationships, sweet connection, vulnerability

Be Present in This Moment

Carla Royal — Tue, 20 Jul 2010 12:11:42 +0000

This morning I hooked up the manure spreader to the Gator to take it to the pasture. Chance, the gentlest Pit Bull alive, and Pedro, my Jackahuahua, jumped aboard, as they always do. Even Max, the old one-eyed Rottweiler, will join us if he is up for an adventure. Buttercup would rather follow behind to eat bits of manure as the spreader releases. And if I drive too fast, which I’m prone to do, I end up with manure in my hair, but happy. The whole scene is a hoot.

So headed up the pasture, and Chance and Pedro lept from the Gator to race up the hill. This is their game. I love watching them run hard; after all, a tired puppy is a good puppy, so Caesar Milan says, and I believe him.

They raced into a small grove of trees where Pedro began barking as ferociously as a 16-pound, half-Chihuahua can. He approached something, jumped back, approached, jumped back. I quickly drove over yelling, “No, Pedro!” I was afraid it could be a snake or a critter that Pedro might hurt. Pedro is as stubborn as a burrowed tick, so he kept right at it.

I jumped from the Gator to find that he had discovered a huge turtle—almost a foot long–gorgeous, ancient, protected, taking all the time and beyond.

I sat in front of him watching, admiring. He was shy but willing to engage a bit. He reminded me that it is good to sit awhile. There is no rush. I can take in this moment. Even Pedro sat calmly beneath the tree watching the pasture as I communed with the turtle.

The turtle reminded me to be fully present in this moment. No need to jump ahead to a future scenario or worry about something past.

This is the only moment I have and it is full of life.

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© Carla for Sacred Witness, 2010. | Permalink | 4 comments | Add to del.icio.us
Post tags: calm, Meditation, Presence, turtle

This Moment

Carla Royal — Mon, 19 Jul 2010 13:33:17 +0000

I sip French-pressed coffee with heavy cream, savoring the warmth as it eases down my throat. Pedro nestles in beside me to rest from his morning escapades. Buttercup barks at the door, ready to return from her morning constitutional. I ask Karen to let her in so I can keep writing; keep the pen flowing, the words moving across the page.

This is my day off. I’m happy to sit, read, and journal awhile with no time constraints. I notice the clouds as I stare out the window through the trees. We need the rain and I would welcome it, but I hope to float on the water in the hot sun awhile, watching Heron, Osprey, and King Fisher. Maybe a sailboat feather will drift by and delight me.

Another sip of silky rich coffee. A luxury. What is the real cost of this luxury? I sip slowly as I ponder the question. I don’t want to think these thoughts and add a dark cloud to the already overcast sky. I’d rather sit in ignorance of what my pleasures cost another and simply enjoy my morning.

If I ask the question–how do my choices impact life–there seems to be no end to it. I can’t help but come to the conclusion that my life is connected to all of life. My life always impacts your life, and even those I’ve never met, whether or not I’m aware of the impact. I am not separate. Will this understanding tear me apart? Or is it in not understanding that I’m torn apart…that this world is torn apart?

The simple act of drinking coffee impacts someone, somewhere. I don’t fully understand the impact; how would it change me if I did? Is drinking fair-trade, shade-grown coffee enough?

What is enough?

I’m putting down this pen now.

So, I went to the lake and floated. I saw the Blue Heron, Osprey, Ducks, and Geese. And then the rain came. I floated while the drops fell. I floated until the thunder began.

After the rain I noticed the ground, dark and nourished, smelling of lush richness. I noticed the beautiful jewel gifts dancing on the flower petals. I noticed the cooled and refreshed air. I breathed it all in.

My life impacts all of life. In this moment I have the choice to nourish life or diminish it.

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© Carla for Sacred Witness, 2010. | Permalink | One comment | Add to del.icio.us
Post tags: choices, connection, impact life, oneness

Attachement + Control = Suffering

Carla Royal — Fri, 16 Jul 2010 13:38:05 +0000

I could’ve kept sleeping this morning. I’m so tired. My body aches. It was difficult going to sleep…again. I don’t know how to ascend this weariness. Sometimes I get frightened about being tired. I get frightened because I have had issues of chronic pain for years, though I am much better. Sleep is a fundamental way of caring for my body. When I don’t get enough of it I become scared that my body with flare in pain and not release for a long time, as has happened in the past. So I get irritable and angry with whomever or whatever interferes with my sleep.

I’m beginning to realize that I have an attachment to this which leads to me becoming controlling. If anything interferes with my sleep then of course I am tired; but because of my attachment and then control, I make the situation worse by becoming angry and carrying that anger with me into the day. So now I’m dealing with lack of sleep and anger and agitation. I’ve made my problem worse and I suffer more.

Listen, tiredness is not going to kill me. And my body is so much better than it was even a year ago. It no longer flares for weeks and months at a time. The truth is that I can relax my controlling grip on this sleep fixation. I can wake up tired and be Ok during the day. I can even ache a bit and really be fine. I don’t have to add all the agitation on top of the discomfort. I can just let it be. That would be Ok.

Attachment and control cause more suffering. I can’t always sleep well or enough but I can be intentional about dropping the attachment and control around the sleep. I can allow the discomfort and tiredness without railing against them or another. As I relax into the discomfort I will be able to manage it with a little more ease and grace. Energy will be freed up to move through my day more easily. My body will be wound less tightly by the end of the day, and sleep just may come a tad more easily.

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© Carla for Sacred Witness, 2010. | Permalink | 3 comments | Add to del.icio.us
Post tags: agitation, anger, attachment, Becoming, chronic pain, control, fixation, intention, sleep, suffering, tiredness, weariness

Sacred Witness

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