It was weird. It was defeating. It was a reminder of an ancient pact that I made with Spirit.
Last night I was talking with my partner about our experience with Covid. I was frustrated with myself for having gone to such a dark place while I was sick. I’m still working on coming out of that place. Thank you for your patience while I reboot mentally, physically, & spiritually.
I came down with Covid on January 10th. I knew I would be down for at least a month. I know my body. My awareness of how I function is so finely tuned that I can feel my eggs release during ovulation. I also knew this would be hell. I’m not going to relay all my symptoms to you. We each experience it differently based on a multitude of variables. I cleared my calendar immediately. This was gut wrenching. All three of my income sources had to be paused. I was devastated. I was heartbroken. I was excited to finally be turning a corner financially. My practice was booked. New clients had been steadily coming in. Previous clients had been rebooking monthly. They would have to wait.
I had arrived in the darkest place of my psyche. The place where I can’t think. Where every decision feels like my life depends on it. Every task seems insurmountable. Covid was tossing me back and forth on a sea of unpredictability. Each new symptom flirting with my immune system for days at a time before finally grasping me in its clutches. This place of darkness is a place I know well. I was in the throws of it with chronic Lyme in 2013. Intense brain fog to the point of short term memory loss & language delays, chronic fatigue, joint pain, acid reflux, mood disorders, other digestive orders, skin rashes, pain in my body that I could not explain. I wanted to sleep & never wake up.
Then, in December of 2014 I’m pregnant. By the time Christmas was over I was nose diving into 9 of the darkest months of my life. Hyperemesis Gravidarum is a condition that most doctors still won’t recognize as a real complication in pregnancy. Imagine being nauseated every day for nine months. Imagine walking outside, feeling the dry cold air punctuate your lungs and promptly vomiting. A dog farts and suddenly you’re at the bathroom sink retching. You walk length of the house, smell the wood stove, walk to the kitchen and heave over the garbage. Puking so hard you pee yourself. So hard that you burst blood vessels in your eyes. So frequently that the acid starts to eat your enamel. Your body even rejects water. This was my pregnancy. I was in hell.
Covid brought me back to those places of self doubt, exhaustion, and feeling betrayed by my body. I was victim.
With all of that I’ve been asking myself, “what did I learn?”
Surely there must be something.
People call me a shaman. I have accepted this title. What does that mean? What did I agree to in accepting this? It means that every so often I have to go to the dark places so that I can bring back knowledge, insight, whatever wisdom & information that might be helpful to others. An integral part of my work involves diving into shadow. The places where others fear to go and then reflecting on that journey. I’m at peace with that agreement.
Reflection: the return of light or sound waves from a surface ~Miriam Webster
This particular journey through darkness taught me a few lessons that I am still ruminating on. Probably the juiciest one revolves around collective suffering, compassion, & patience. We have all been impacted by this in someway, shape or form. It’s important to have compassion for oneself in recovery. Seek whatever support resonates with you most. Going slow is paramount to recovery. Rest is my priority now when I have time off. Warmth makes my body feel amazing. I seek it out as much as possible. My health must come first above all other obligations. I am learning how to dance with fear as teacher vs. fear as foe.