Wednesday, August 3, 2011

A Longish Post on Dropping In

Man, the times have been interesting lately.

I mean, there's all the outer stuff:  the debt ceiling debate, in which the poor are completely erased from the discussion except as a means of extracting more and more from those who have less.  There are the heat waves, discussions of Denver being the new Phoenix.  There is football, which apparently is going to happen this year, thank God for E.

But also, interesting times on the inside.  If I see you in person at all, I've probably unloaded on you in the first five minutes that I'm experiencing some sort of Total Hormonal Realness that I don't understand.  It started earlier in the summer with some fun unexplained weight gain, nighttime hot flashes, and huge clumps of hair falling out, then marched on through the exciting terrain that is horrific chin acne, getting my period every two to three weeks, emotional loop-di-loops, and a libido that would make Larry Flynt blush.

Sorry, people.  Just keeping it real.

I'm going to a new gyno tomorrow to have things measured and poked and prodded just to make sure this isn't some thyroid thing, or some sort of growthishness messing things up.  I'm guessing it's not.  All of those symptoms above have mellowed considerably in the last week.  I'm guessing I'm flirting a little bit with peri-menopause, even though I'm kind of young for that.  It does raise some interesting questions about what to do.  I like being off the pill.  Been off for a year now.  But I'm not a fan of these new symptoms.  So how to proceed is interesting.

One of the more annoying symptoms I'm having is a return to pregnancy brain, where all I'm really capable of intellectually is looking at the new Company Store catalog and watching Sex and the City reruns on VH-1.  I'm doing my reading and writing for work, but it's slogging, painful, torture.  My brain really just wants to waterski on the surface of life right now.  It's not interested in scuba.

So I decided to go see Kate, my amazing tuning-fork-healing-touch-goddess, for my usual tune-up, and she did some sort of spiritual-endocrine flush on Monday, which gave me a very interesting set of cramps afterwards.  I complained to her beforehand of feeling completely scattered, unable to focus.  Delaminated.  No actual laying on of hands of fluid manipulation occurred--this is all above-the-pants-type stuff.  But whereas during my last session with her I "dropped out" into some other plane and listened to some beings having conversations around me, like I was a kid in some sort of cosmic beauty shop (interesting), this time, it took me forever to give myself over to the treatment.  Monkey brain kept wanting to think about the new fall line at Boden (cute cord dresses) and about why Khloe Kardashian isn't getting pregnant.

But then, I became pancake batter.  I don't know how else to describe it.  One minute, I was getting angry at myself for not focusing on the treatment, and the next minute, it was like I had turned viscous and was being poured through a funnel onto a flat surface, where I just pancaked out.  Everything mellowed, and then I noticed a pulsing ache in the ovary area.  I became aware of having suppressed the ache for a long time.  Kate wondered later if it has to do with some old injury I sustained.  I don't know.  Maybe around the girls' births?

Probably just my mind playing tricks.  We'll see what the doc says tomorrow.

Except then this other weird thing happened.  My friend Nancy responded a few weeks back to my sad Bogota post, emailing me something like, "you do have community, and I'm dropping off Krishna Das's book to you right now."  And then she appeared with it, we had lunch, and she took me to church the next Sunday.  She's something of a big-time blessing in my life.

Anyway, in case you don't know, Krishna Das is a formerly-Jewish guy who went to India and studied with a guru and now leads awesome chants here in the US.  Nancy and I went and saw him a few weeks back (also her idea and her treat).

So I was chanting along to his cd this morning, which I've never done before even though I've had the cd for about a year and really love it.  I usually just do yoga to it.  The problem this morning was I felt like meditating but had antsy pregnancy brain and thought I'd try the chanting to see if that helped.  Here's the song I did:

He's also a major blessing.  And his book is very, very interesting.

Anyway, so I'm chanting, and I just drop in right away.  This happens to me some times when I meditate.  I'll meditate for a cumulative hours and hours with nothing, only struggle to stay in, and then POP, I'll drop in and be totally connected and get interesting messages and sensations and things.  Then it won't happen again for a few years.  Maybe if I meditated more regularly I'd drop in more regularly but that's for another post.

My point is that I dropped in this morning and my body started doing all this crazy gumby stuff.  Like my limbs got all big then very, very tiny.  My feet would seem to be right in front of my mouth and then would move miles away.  I was elastigirl, or a Botero figure, or the Michelin man.  I was all of those things.  And it was totally effortless and refreshing and godly.

So, that's what's going on with me.  Summertime, getting ready back to go back to school, running 25 miles a week, and dropping in to gumby-universe-land now and then.

Interesting times.

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