In my last post I was sharing my frustration with the long, drawn out healing of my physical self. One huge realization came from my physical situation. The aches and pains helped me to realize I’ve been sick for much of my life. As a kid I had sore throats and lung infections constantly — I was put on penicillin or some antibiotic every month, which caused its own complications. In my early teens I had a horrible case of mononucleosis and was hospitalized. Plus there was no end to horrible falls and accidents when I was out playing, although I wonder about the causes of some of those accidents now.
The pattern of sickness and accidents continued into my adulthood. A friend of mine once told me I had two speeds: full speed ahead and dead in the water. I push hard and fast, full on, until I crash for some needed downtime.
I’m also “accident prone”. I’ve had three concussions from skiing, nasty falls from other sports, shattered eardrums and a disjointed shoulder from being a dive master. Doctors tell me I have the lower back and knees of an 80 year old thanks to marathons and some pretty intense aerobics classes during my 2os — when I taught up to four times a day.
My lungs are a constant source of my sickness. I’ve had pneumonia four different times, including at high altitude on the Tibetan side of Everest. Thanks to that near death experience I can’t climb anymore; can’t do any high altitudes. My lungs put me at risk, which meant I had to give up one of my favorite sports and life experiences…my high mountains.
I think of myself as being healthy. Always have. Yet in reality I’ve been sick or hurt a lot of the time. And I always have been.
As that reality slowly became my conscious truth, I kept asking myself “why?”. I repeated that question time and time again. Then one day, I had my answer. A single word, spoken softly in my heart, opened my awareness.
When I was sick, Mommy paid attention. She cared for me continuously, kept me home and gave me her special toddies and lunches. She stayed home with me, stayed near me. And that meant they couldn’t get me. I was safe. So I learned to be sick. A lot.
Even though I’m secure and healing, that habit pattern is still in my subconscious. Interwoven into the very fabric of my being. I’ve learned that I’m even proud of it. I get sick, I have accidents and I just keep going.
The healing of my physical body, the energy that remains from my terror, is well along it’s path.
This is my next healing. It’s even deeper than the physical aches and pains born of my childhood. The beliefs that tell me I must be hurt or sick to be safe may be deeply integrated in my being, but it’s time for them to be gone, too.
I’m safe now. And I will be healthy and safe going forward.
“Mia Hand and Pettles” Welshdan @ flickr.com. Creative Commons. Some Rights Reserved.