Learning the answers to my questions

Once again I have to say I haven't blogged in a while. And, gratefully, once again I can say I have been busy. Busy swimming. I go to the pool now three times a week. Each time I stay for two and a half hours. Lately, no one else has been in the pool and I am free to invent and execute various water exercises. I run in the water, trot, "frog swim," - it looks just like it sounds - do breathing exercises, meditate, and express great gratitude for the sun, the water, the breeze, the summer. I do love it so.

Is it helping my recovery? Oh yes! I do have days during the week when I am simply too tired to go to the pool. That is, most likely, due to my extreme exercising. That doesn't matter. I can feel that my lungs, my entire body are stronger. My appetite has changed. Not only am I hungrier, I am hungrier for better foods. Fruits, mostly. I am very much enjoying the summer fruits. Fresh strawberries, peaches, bananas (a regular staple, but still they seem more alive in summer). I am enjoying my life.

I continue to study and learn many things that are helping me to understand the nature of sickness and mine in particular. I am continuing to restudy A Course In Miracles, but I am also studying Buddhism, learning and saying mantras while, also, learning about healing sounds and healing music. I have also recently reread parts of a book I have had for a long time on auras. One section concerns cleansing ones' aura and there are sections on beginning with clearing out the clutter in your environment and cleaning it as well. Both things that have not recently received much attention from me.

My daughter came over on Thursday with the intention of assisting me in cleaning out all of my closets and taking clothing to a Good Will store. I deeply appreciate her interest and her help. Something she may not know. But when dealing with someone like me who is loathe to change, has hoarding tendencies, OCD, rampant superstitions which may or may not have a medical term, and panic disorder, telling me to clean out a closet on a specific day with only one day's notice is most likely not going to work. It didn't. But she did remove some heavy, unwanted items that were piled in a corner. I am glad to be free of them and I am very grateful for her help. And with that seemingly small start, she inspired me to begin the process of clearing out the clutter on my own. Now, of course, I would very much like her help. If she were here today, we would go through the closets in no time and I could toss things out faster than I can on my own. But she chose last Thursday as her daughter was visiting her other grandparents, leaving her free, and I understand I missed my opportunity. I just wanted to go swimming the day she was here. I just wanted to visit with her in a fun, playful way. We did and she also went to the grocery with me. I confessed to her that I am still embarrassed to go to the grocery with the oxygen tank. It was very nice having her there. It gave me the confidence to move with lightening speed and finish the "ordeal" in record time. I still hate the tank and the tubes that attach me to it. But c'est la vie. I hope I spelled that correctly.

I did clear out one box full of clothing this morning and I also attacked a job that I thought would require professional help. Mold collects around the fan vent in the half bathroom downstairs. It happens when it rains. I have been told that the rain is coming in through the dryer vent on the patio and can only enter when the wind is blowing a certain way. That makes sense as the mold isn't always there, once I have cleaned it off. This time, though, it has been growing there since the onset of my oxygen journey and I have feared getting too close to it. Today I just did it. I made a "hazmat" suit for myself by wrapping a dishtowel around my face, putting on an old long sleeved shirt, and using plastic grocery bags for full length gloves. I cleaned off the mold using soap and Lysol spray. I did a pretty good job, but I would like to have a professional come and fix the problem permanently and paint the ceiling with Kilz paint or replace drywall if necessary. I can do that when I have more money, which I hope will be soon. Meanwhile, I don't believe the mold has harmed me or will harm me after getting so close to it today. It's just gone. Out of sight, out of mind. I do not understand how I can feel that way about something I am truly and reasonably leery of, yet I cannot let go of clothing I can no longer wear. Part of my mental wire crossing I suppose.

I just glanced at the title for today and realize how far off track I seem to be. The question I had in mind was my last blog title, Why am I sick? I will answer that as succinctly as possible according to what I have learned so far. (Can I ever be succinct? Anything is possible...) My body is sick because my mind has held onto Fear, Shame, Feelings Of Unworthiness, Guilt, and Anger. My body remembers and has stored specific thoughts, feelings, and incidents that I have long forgotten. My mind remembers the basics and it is my mind that has tried through so many years of therapy to attend to those basics and banish them. I have been somewhat successful in this. But my study of A Course In Miracles and the little I know so far of Buddhism are teaching me the Power of Forgiveness, Love, and Compassion. I believe if I talk to my body, in particular the cells that comprise my lungs and the surrounding muscles, including the muscles of my neck and shoulders, and ask them to Forgive Me, Love Me and have Compassion for Me, I can indeed heal.

When I have thought of those things before, it has always been in relation to others. I can forgive others. I can certainly love others. I have always had compassion for others. But all along I have hated myself. I feel guilt over many things which means I do not forgive myself and I have no compassion for myself because I have thought I am unworthy. I may have learned these things from the "outside," but I have nurtured them on the "inside." I have fed them continuously for decades. I think if I put the Inside Me on a new diet, I can shed those unwanted pounds much faster than I put them on. Yes, they are pounds. They weigh me down and are so heavy they have impeded my breathing.

We are taught - at least, I was - that to love yourself is conceited, selfish. I was taught to always think of others, not myself. Never myself. I have tried so hard to be "good." I never realized I already was "good" and could never be anything else. As I type this I know I still have doubts. The old learning is deep. The new learning will take time, but at least I am still learning. I am still growing. I am still achieving. My healing is not just for my body. It is for my Mind and my Soul. I have never thought that before, but I'm glad I'm thinking it now.

Why am I sick?

I have recently invested in many holistic methods of healing myself. I, of course, am still enjoying my weekly Qigong class and I practice here at my house. I have bought several new books on self-healing, CDs with healing music, sounds, meditations, and mantras. Each day I take the medication my pulmonary doctor has prescribed for me and I use the supplemental oxygen while sleeping and anytime I have to walk a long distance. Except for the western medications and supplemental oxygen, I use all these tools to heal myself. I can only use the western techniques to control, since western medicine insists I cannot be cured. To doctors, I am on a downward spiral during which my illness will only continue to get worse. So they say. I say different.

But that is not the point for today. Today the point, or rather the question, is: why am I sick? Again, western medicine points to the environmental factor of my many years of cigarette smoking, but it also now admits there is a genetic component to emphysema, COPD, whatever they choose to call it.

However, if the disease was caused by cigarette smoking, it should have improved when I quit and steadily gotten better as long as I did not smoke again. And I haven't. Yes, all physical conditions may progress with age. But I am not so old that I should have progressed to the point where I need supplemental oxygen. Perhaps it is genetic, but I do not believe I possess an emphysemic gene. The gene I possess is one of depression, anxiety, fear, putting on a brave face, hiding my feelings. That, I believe, is my gene and that, I believe, is why I am sick.

What does depression do to the body? How does one feel? How does one look? One feels tired, incredibly tired - hardly able to draw in a breath. One looks tired. Shoulders are slumped, head is held down. Not much air can enter the body in this position, nor leave it, for that matter.

What do anxiety and fear do to the body? How does one feel and look? One feels constantly on edge, alert, edgy, on guard - afraid. How does that look? Shoulders hunched up, fists clenched ready to do battle, eyes blinking, breaths coming in shallow and quick, muscles tensed. A recipe for healthy lungs? I don't think so.

"Body" doctors look at the body. Psychiatrists look at the mind. Both see a disease, one physical, one mental. But which came first - the chicken or the egg? In the case of current humans, it was the egg that developed and grew into some kind of person. Persons in various degrees of health and well being, mental and physical.

I believe my body is responding to the abuse of my mind. My mind has told "me" that, for some reason, I don't deserve to breathe. But I now believe that I do. I just have to convince my body of that. And to that end, I will use the holistic and western treatments combined. But I must work on my very self, my very, very self. The Original Me. Whoever she is, wherever she came from. I believe I can heal her, because I believe she is already healed. I just have to find her.

If I am really "on to something" here, then I will share my findings with any and all who will listen. The Mind/Body connection is not a new idea. Even the Soul/Mind/Body connection is not new. I think there may be nothing new at all. Everything has already been learned, experienced, and forgotten. I suppose all I am really trying to do is remember that it is my birthright to breathe, my birthright to be healthy, my birthright to live a long, fulfilling life. It's everyone's birthright. I think the We of Us just continually continues to punish. For my part, I quit. No more punishing myself - mentally, emotionally, spiritually. That is my Intent. When I am truly able to do that, the physical punishment will end as well.

Breakthrough

Yesterday I did indeed have a breakthrough. In the morning I attended my Qigong class. It was wonderful. I could feel myself opening up, receiving energy and air into all parts of my body. My lungs felt clean and clear, my shoulders and neck were not tight. I felt as if I were healing at warp speed.

My Qigong facilitator is amazing. She has studied in China and is working on her Master's degree in Medical Qigong. I believe she is also a gifted healer. She removed some black energy from my upper back region before we started class. I know this contributed to my sense of well being, and the feeling has lasted.

In the afternoon I got gas for my car and went to the grocery. I used my portable oxygen and it did not bother me one bit. I held my head high and literally raced around the store. I smiled and nodded at people, spoke with the cashier - and she with me - as if I was not attached to an oxygen tank. It was possibly the best trip I've had to a grocery store ever.

The evening continued peacefully watching television with my dog, and sampling the marvelous delicacies I had bought at the store. For dinner I had a peanut butter and banana sandwich on toast. Delicious.

The feeling stays with me this morning. I believe I have, at last, begun the uphill climb toward health and well being. That's not to say I won't have any more depression or not-so-fabulous days, but if I don't, I won't be surprised. I feel so much better about my health, my life, my purpose. There have been times during which I felt my only purpose in life was to offer other people the opportunity to be kind and compassionate. That sounds as if I nominated myself for Secret Sainthood, but that's not the case. It was the only way I could explain to myself why my life seemed so hard and why I could not accomplish great things - things that would uplift mankind. Delusions of grandeur? No, just a genuine desire to help. And I do believe there are people who come into this lifetime in difficult circumstances exactly for the purpose I stated above. But these are true Secret Saints and I will no longer attempt to align my situation in life with theirs. I am a different kind of Secret with a different kind of purpose. I will think more on that and write an explanation as it comes to me.

It's certainly possible that there is no purpose for any of us. But I believe there is, and what each one of us believes about ourselves is really all that matters. I believe I can heal myself and I hope to help heal others by example. For now, it is a beautiful summer day. I have the anticipation of visiting with my daughter and granddaughter today. And I feel wonderful.

Enhancing my education

I choked this evening. After swallowing a medication I take that I refer to as a horse pill, I realized that It hadn't gone down and was lodged in my throat, just beyond the swallowing place (another technical term). I immediately took more swallows of water, but they didn't go anywhere and simply rolled out of my mouth. Then came the moment when I attempted to take a breath. The air stopped at the back of my throat as if it had slammed into a wall. I knew I was choking and could die, but didn't panic. I first thought of trying the Heimlich maneuver on myself by throwing myself over the back of one of my kitchen table chairs. Somehow I knew that wouldn't work and I also knew I didn't have much time. I decided I must get to my next door neighbor's - fast. I stopped at the keypad to turn off my alarm; when the door opens and it's on, the racket is horrendous. Yes, I thought of all these things at the same time I could have been dying. As I raised my hand to the keypad, I breathed in air. It was over and I was OK.

How long did the entire episode last? Less than 20 seconds, I'm sure. And it didn't seem any different to me. Time didn't stand still, nor did it move in slow motion. Possibly for the first time in my life, I was in serious, immediate danger. And I didn't panic. I thought quite clearly and acted on my thoughts. That may seem peculiar for a person with panic disorder, but it's not the first time that's happened. In other frightening situations, not involving myself, I have acted in a calm, controlled manner and, on one occasion in particular, very much saved the day when my toddler daughter and nephew were caught on a runaway horse. But that's a story for another day - perhaps.

Was there a lesson to be learned here? Of course. It's the same lesson I've been trying to teach myself since I began this blog - Everyday Is Today. Every day matters so much. Every day is for living, learning, laughing - doing anything except worrying about tomorrow. Yes, I want to heal my lungs and I believe I can. That is, more or less, my mission at this point in my life. But when, where, and how I will leave this body is something I do not know and cannot know. At least, we aren't supposed to know and that's just one of the many reasons I'm opposed to capital punishment.

But back to my worries, my fears, my efforts to live every day as fully and as happily as I can. I really have been doing that. The choking episode this evening simply reinforces. I must not be afraid. I must not be downhearted. That serves no one - especially me.

I want to start writing again. I want to write children's books. Perhaps I can incorporate, in an age-appropriate-way, the things I have learned in my studies of Reality, Other Religions Besides Christianity, Christianity, and Many More Exciting And Important Things. I actually like that as a title - Exciting And Important Things. And there's always that classic, The Joy Of Not Choking.