Tag: knowing

Whatever

04Apr13

Whatever
the occupation
the age
the gender

Whatever
the sexual preference
the religion
the hair color

Whatever the size of
the bank book
the house
the appetite

Whether one likes
numbers
beakers
paint
words
proof
or
faith
best

Whatever
the handicap
the illness
the eye color

Whatever
the height
the dental records
the shoe size

Whatever
the favorite color
the preferred mode of transportation
or dress
or leisure activity

Whatever the differences . . .
We’re all Somebodies
Somewhere
in Some Way.

a recounting

in the space of two scant hours, my morning turns undeniably magical.

one, i read:

The summit of the soul is like a mountain top which has been hidden in the clouds, but from which the clouds now melt away, leaving the peak free in the clear upper air through which it receives the full light of the sun.

~ Thomas Merton

two, i see:

Cloudmelting2

and this:

Cloudmelting3

3, i round the curve to :

Cloudmelting1

i love
when a day
comes together
and reaches
a solid
10
before 10.

by the power invested in me, i now pronounce . . .

Becomingwhole

a rash
on my back.
pain
excruciating pain
intermittently,
thank goodness.
burning
itching
feeling of
general malaise.
headache
fever
tiredness
pain –
did i mention pain?

i read a book –
totally unrelated –
and note a sentence
about how this man
had endured a
bout of shingles.
i think nothing of it.
days pass.

can’t sleep.
spend hours
trying to isolate
and define
the source of
the cause of
the pain.
does it hurt
when i press here?
how bout here?
does it hurt
more when i push my arm
against some immovable object?
does it make a difference
when my palm faces up?
when i twist this way?
on and on it goes,
this inquiry.

then
one night
i wake at
3 a.m.
knowing
that this is
shingles.

my family,
concerned about me
and not wanting
to see me in
pain,
demands
i go see a doctor.

surely there’s a pill
or a shot
that will make this
all go away,
they say.

let’s be clear about this:
they care about me.
they don’t want to see me suffer.
i get that.
i appreciate that.
but i know my body.
i haven’t always,
but i do now.

for far too long,
my body only existed
to carry my head around,
the head being the royal chambers
of my brain,
the canvas
for any beauty
i might have: my face.

it might take up
more space
than i’d like,
this body of mine,
but oh
the wisdom
i carry
in my bones
in my cells
in my blood.

i know my body
better than any
doctor
knows my body,
regardless
of how many
letters trail
after our
respective
names.

don’t get me wrong:
there are times
i will seek
information
and remedy
from doctors,
but today
i ask my body
and it says
just rest.
move slower.
slather on
the anti-itch ointments and lotions.
take over the counter analgesics.
heed my whispers
and this will eventually pass.

if i don’t
visit a doctor,
the only one
with the authority
to declare me
ill
or healthy,
i must keep going
and i must not
complain.
ever.
those are the house rules.

rather
those have been the house rules.

there’s change
brewing here
as i recognize
and honor
the wisdom,
the knowledge,
the authority
that clatters
in my bones,
that emanates
from my cells,
that flows
throughout
this frame.
my head
becomes
part of my body
and the
wholeness
feels like a
homecoming.

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Allow me to introduce myself . . .

Hey, Sugar! I'm Jeanne Hewell-Chambers: writer ~ stitcher ~ storyteller ~ one-woman performer ~ creator & founder of The 70273 Project, and I'm mighty glad you're here. Make yourself at home, and if you have any questions, just holler.

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