and…back again

Biannual retreating is, hands down, the singular best thing I do for myself. (And that my fellow retreatant and I do for one another. Because it wouldn’t be the same, alone!)

On retreat, we take space and time to dig deeper (and simultaneously lighten)…spread out, literally + figuratively…nourish ourselves with good-tasting and good-for-us food + drinks we’ve prepped in advance. We set intentions — but not expectations. (Oh, what a difference!) There’s books-and-journaling-and other kinds of writing; creating-and-making in the paper/marker/glue stick realm. (I always pack my knitting but never pick it up.) We walk. In downtowns, on trails, by creeks, in snow, and, this time, around a little lake where we saw painted turtles sunning on logs and a great blue heron gracefully…patiently…looking for dinner.

Our rental was just right. The weather was just right. Everything, everything was just right.

It ended, though. As all things must.

But I did bring something back with me.

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Last Tuesday I was talking, then, about loosening. Loosening a grip — versus letting go. (So much simpler! Right?) I heard, from readers and friends, that the loosen thing is actually….accessible! Palatable! Less demanding. Less intimidating. Less set-up-for-failure. It’s like, I can actually do that, instead of M’yeah. No.

So I began the retreat last Wednesday with loosening top of mind.

A good starting point, turned out.

I set two intentions for the 3-day retreat; one was to get real with my parts of the ongoing pain [you’re probably tired of hearing about]. (Me, too. Me, too.) While there’s plenty I can’t control in the pain department, there are a few things I can — with practice. Chief among them: storing emotions in my body.

We all do it! If you’ve ever had tight shoulders or a clenched your jaw…yep, you do it, too.

Breaking a habit like that reminds me of what Adriene said once in a yoga video. I’ve shared it here before, along the lines of —

sometimes, just the awareness of something is enough to be the catalyst for change.

It’s been true in this case, I’m happy to say. On retreat, aware that I can (and must) be more proactive, I

1.) set aside the doctor’s narrow view and the insurance company’s ‘one size fits all’

2.) read and listened to different perspectives on degenerative disc disease

3.) asked myself some questions…and answered them honestly, and —

4.) started a twice-daily basic routine (PT, sadly, set me back ~6 months and I hit a new low. But this, this nails it. And I love his message.)

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A big question I asked on retreat was How does emotion factor in?

Easy answer? It’s a beast! For me, external emotional stress triggers a response akin to electric shock. And it’s not just the ‘big deals’! Simple nagging conflict…standard issue aggravation…pulls the pin on a zap, creating a current, then settling in for the long haul.

‘Emotional storage’ is just one component of chronic pain. But a big one. And one I believe I can change. Retreating — journaling, meditation, conversation, movement, and breathing — offered the space, remove, and time to name and accept that.

What is it again? Ah, yes:

sometimes, just the awareness of something is enough to be the catalyst for change.

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I had opportunities, we’ll say, to practice when I came home.

Sensing it coming though, I did what I learned in my first yoga class in 1997: Breathe into that trouble spot.

And did I ever.

I breathed like it was my singular purpose: Who’s gonna get to that trouble spot first, oxygen or cortisol?

Guess what? Oxygen won.

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Progress.

It started when I loosened my grip. When I became a little less attached to —

1.) my p.o.’ed narrative that this shouldn’t be happening because I take good care of myself

2.) getting clear answers and quick results — now that I finally called a doctor

3.) the idea that the doctor would make me better and the problem would go away forever

4.) falling back on a blissful cortisone shot (I exhausted that on other parts already)

I acknowledge it’s just that: a start.

I’m starting.

I’ve started.