The first truly winter snow of the season , earlier in January, caused me to miss an appointment and reschedule several days of plans as I was confronted with yet another after-effect of this year’s wildfire (not the big one that consumed most of northeastern NM last year but the much smaller one that did in about ten of us who had been only slightly singed the first time around) in that my four wheel drive Envoy was crisped and I have not yet been able to replace it. I am grateful to have friends who enabled the rescheduling, and I did appreciate the gift of a quiet couple days at home.
The rebuilding process has been arduous – delay after delay, poor or no communication as to why, piles of building materials blocking the entrance to my house and creating what has felt like a fiercely threatening fall hazard for my achy body. Thankfully the worst of that danger has been removed as some of the materials just went into a new carport – still unfinished but of some partial use protecting my car these winter days.
Taught to look for useful “takeaway” lessons in the challenges life throws at me, I find I am learning to deepen my patience and to become more clear about when to just let things be and when to push against what feels truly wrongful. In that context, I was much taken with a parable I encountered in Forgive for Good, by Dr. Fred Luskin. It is not long, so rather than summarize, I am copying it out here.
“A long time ago a village had a saint living near it. That saint walked among the hills and one day came upon a rattlesnake lying in the grass. The snake lunged with its fangs bared and made to bite the holy man. The saint smiled, and the snake was stopped by his kindness and love. The saint spoke to the rattler and asked the snake to give up biting the village’s children. He said in that way the snake would be better liked and cause less harm.
Because of the power the holy man possessed, the snake agreed to stop biting. The next week the saint walked by the same spot and saw the snake on the ground lying in a pool of its own blood. The snake used what little strength it had to admonish the saint for almost killing him. “Look what happened to me when I took your advice. I am a bloody mess. Look what happened to me when I tried to be nice and not bite, and now everyone is trying to hurt me.” The saint looked at the snake, smiled and said “I never told you not to hiss.”
I would say that the big lesson for me these past 8 months, and ongoing, is knowing when to stay quiet, and when to hiss.
A parallel ongoing lesson has to do with managing one symptom of a recently diagnosed autoimmune disorder. It causes pain but that is fairly well under control. The unpredictable deep fatigue is not. I am still sorting out how much exhaustion comes from overdoing physical activity, how much is my body’s response to weather changes (barometer body), what arises from digestion issues that the new disorder has exacerbated, and what comes from stress. On a truly bad day, I know that all four are contributing. I have learned my physical limitations, and am beginning to understand the digestion dynamics. I can do nothing about the weather – which leaves stress as the main uncontrolled variable.
Needless to say, managing a major restoration of my home is stressful. No less so is the task of letting go of a lifetime of being a planner and organizer, and instead to “go with the flow” as weather fluctuations dictate my portion of energy for any given day. Slowly I seem to be learning to sort the absolute necessities out from the list of “want to’s”, to recognize when my energy is waning, and to judge if I can take a break and resume, or need to quickly finish the few mandatory items and postpone everything else. Slowly I am learning to hear the wise inner voice that gives flawless directions for how to negotiate each day. And happily I can hear in myself the excellent indicator of impending energy collapse – nearly constant hissing.
Next step? Hear and follow the flawless directions, obviating the need to hiss.
1eclecticwriter 