When Falling Down The Stairs and Breaking Lotsa Bones = Miracle
The energy of the day as I wrote these words was that of the planet Mercury, the planet of mind and communication. Through Mercury we develop the abilities of thinking, writing and speaking. I was writing pretty much off and on all day and when I wasn’t writing I was communicating with children. Mercury also relates to our experience of childhood and early learning. What a perfect Wednesday for me!
During our upcoming workshops (are you signed up yet?) we’ll discuss the energies of each respective day and in the weekly modules leading up to the big event you’ll have the opportunity to learn about your own personal energy patterns from both the weekly and yearly perspective. Learn more about the workshops (either in person in Portland OR or via webinar online) here.
We’ll also prepare for the upcoming cosmic weather by plotting upcoming retrogrades (Mercury is in apparent retrograde 3 times in 2020) and other major astrological transits in our planners/calendars so that we can schedule our own important life events accordingly.
Last but not least is how the fuck to deal with all of this in the real world where you’ll often find yourself unable to pick which events happen on which days. I’ve got tips and resources on how to survive and thrive in the more gnarly cosmic storms or less auspicious energy days.
This morning what I felt was a desire to invite you to wish for big miracles this year. As I contemplated imploring you to have faith I found myself wondering how or why I believe in miracles. A younger me came to mind, jaded and skeptical, totally in her god-is-dead phase, living in NYC where she moodily scribbled into a notebook and choked down black coffee (cuz it was cool, not cuz she liked it).
That Liz didn’t know what was to come, hadn’t experienced much tragedy or challenge- despite her attraction to the dark. The decade of my twenties would lead to an education on shitty life experiences. I lost several family members in the span of a couple of years. And while marriage and a new baby were the bright spots of this decade, the partnership ultimately brought tremendous struggle with addiction and mental illness.
The struggles continued…. At the end of my 31st year I found myself in the midst of darkness and loss. Even when I felt strongly that “things” couldn’t get any worse, they did! Ha! But, I swear the miracle did come. Amidst a decade long chronic pain experience at 32 weeks pregnant with my second child I learned that my savings account had been emptied and my checking account had exactly $5 more than the amount for which I’d just written a check to my son’s preschool. The villain who caused it all? My partner at the time. Later I would face how my own role as Enabler and The Queen Of Denial caused these life experiences as well.)
Weeks passed, my younger son was born healthy and I was physically ok, too. Still living in pain, but I knew on some level how lucky I was. That knowledge made me feel worse. If you’ve experienced chronic pain or illness (mental or physical) you know what I mean.
The death of my uncle followed a few weeks later. Anxiety. Driving as a trigger to panic attacks. No money. Back to work from home with babe in arms to try to pay for food… for anything. Husband still bleeding our money. As soon as I found a way to generate it he’d gamble it away (he also worked and of course gambled his money away too). A visit from angels, maybe a medical professional would have said a symptom of post partum psychosis? Alas, doc, don’t worry. I wasn’t listening to this voice I heard. I know what this voice asserted, that everything was going to be alright, was a bunch of bullshit.
Nothing was alright.
Weeks pass. No sleep (cuz baby). No money. No relief. MRI’s and doctors appointments but no relief from my physical pain. Then
The Undeniable Intervention (and miracle)
Baby upstairs, 5 year old eating breakfast before his 2nd day of kindergarten. I wanted to be a Good Mom, a card carrying PTA member. I run down to the basement to grab the stapler and some clean clothes out of the dryer when on my ascent back up to the family I begin to, inexplicably, fall down.
I knew as I fell there would be broken bones. I fell too far and onto too hard of a concrete surface to come out intact.
concussion
broken ribs
broken hand
broken fingers
broken arm
strange indented shoulder
A shroud of pain surrounded me. New, fresh pain. Pain with a clear and describable cause. The additional trauma, struggle, challenge, pain resulting in surrender and a real life physical miracle- the eventual absence of my chronic pain. Through physical and occupational therapy and the healing of my broken bones it took me a while to even realize (believe, accept) the absence of my longest term relationship, my right sided facial pain. It was just… GONE. The fall certainly felt like The Intervention. I can’t decide if the fall itself or the relief from the pain was the actual Miracle.