Sense of Dis-Ease

I feel a sense of dis-ease… I’ve felt it for several weeks now… I can feel the desire to push it away, to know what it is, to explain it.

This is my ego wanting a “hit”, wanting an easy fix, an easy out.

The practice of contemplation tells me to be patient, to feel into the body, to trust that I don’t have to know right in this minute.

My teacher tells me that it can take years for some wounds to unwind, is that really true?  Do I have to be patient for that long? What if I can’t take it? It’s sort of like a scab that’s healing on a cut, do I let it be and let it heal, or do I pick at it?  I know what is right, and I know what is tempting.

And then I breathe.

And then I feel.

And then I know, I can hold off for a bit, I can allow myself to get to know this dis-ease.

The inquiry is simply stated.  It isn’t fancy, I just keep asking myself, “What is this dis-ease I feel?”  Sometimes I ask it before I go to bed.  Sometimes I ask it before I “sit”, sometimes I ask it while I’m walking the dogs… Nobody answers me yet.  Usually that’s okay, and sometimes it’s not. 

If I have to explain what this dis-ease feels, it’s still such a new awareness to me, we’re like two people sizing each other up, trying to figure out if the other means well or not, trying to figure out whether to trust the other or not.  Sometimes, it feels like a cavern in my stomach.  Other times, it feels like constriction in my chest with a quickening of the heart at the same time.  Just moments ago, it felt like a question in the mind, and for a moment I thought I had it all figured out and I could feel the excitement of the thrill of the chase!  And then I remembered, “Oh yes, that was just the Ego, wanting its easy fix. Settle down, you don’t have to know the answer to this one yet”.

Sometimes this dis-ease feels like a puzzle piece with both of us trying to find out where it belongs.  I feel as though it’s looking for its home, and it’s looking to be witnessed, to be known.  A part of me deeply wants to give it that, that’s the part of me who knows patience will pay off, knows trusting the process and allowing dis-ease the room it needs  will allow for trust to develop.  That is the part of me who knows I don’t have to know in this exact minute, I’m okay and there’s nothing wrong.

I have to say, it’s quite a pain though.  Dis-ease doesn’t care I want to get a full night’s sleep, and when it wakes me at 3am, it’s harder for me to feel awake throughout my day. In that way, it feels very young, like a child who wants what she wants when she wants it, and I should give it to her.  I have to laugh, because I know I could fight it, but have you ever tried fighting yourself to get back to sleep?  For me, I always lose, so it’s easier to simply be with dis-ease in the middle of the night, in the darkness under my comfy weighted blanket, and allow it to be known, allow it room to breathe, to be witnessed.  I can do that for a bit, and then the strangest thing seems to happen.  Dis-ease settles back, like she’s been seen, and she can rest, and thankfully, I can too.

Me and Dis-ease are doing this dance together, and some days I wonder how long it will be until the dance finishes, or what it will look like when we get to the end of the song.  That still, quiet place within me senses if I allow Dis-ease to take its time, it will be worth it.  

Deep knowing is on the other side.  

Healing is on the other side. 

Understanding is on the other side.

This is the practice.  

I keep looking for the ribbon I can tie around the package making it look nice and neat and pretty, although I have to admit that I’ve never been very good at that.
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This is trust, this is enough, this is the reality of the moment.  I am getting to know Dis-ease.  She is slow-to-warm-up, just like my oldest daughter was when she was a baby.  And in these still, quiet moments, I know this is the path, and I will continue to make my way, unfinished, still walking, still waiting, still listening.