How far

Another work farewell this week. Not a close colleague but the one fellow-sufferer {grimace — I hate that expression, but it’ll do for now!} I’ve ever talked to about ME. We’re both well on the path of recovery. She’s now confident enough in her ability to handle herself that she’s changing job, she recently moved town, and is quite obviously exploring her new future. It’s so heart-warming. The potential opening up for her.

As it is for me too.

I feel myself moving out of the category of ‘sufferer’ or ‘chronically ill’, letting this be a part of my past much more than my present. But I will miss my conversations with her, difficult though they always were. She’s the one person I know who understands also this stage of the journey — the challenge of shifting one’s perceptions in line with increased physical wellness, how the residues of that experience of incapacity tag along well after their use-by date, influencing decisions, creating anxieties, a subtle trap of stuckness that always threatens to obscure the exciting glimpses of liberation and possibility.

But I can do this without her, I can move forward. I have many resources to hand now, some reside inside me if I nurture the right attitudes and watch my thought habits, some lie in my relationships with others and in allowing them to help me.

My teacher regularly inspires me in this slow process of letting go. I can feel him patiently willing me on. He told me this week he wished he could show me somehow the way I was when we first met, maybe 5 years ago now, that seeing this would perhaps help me go a little easier on myself. I’m kind of relieved he can’t; it would make difficult viewing for me, although I’m glad he has this perspective. Perhaps it allows him some satisfaction in discerning how much his teaching and the space he creates goes to help me. This is the kind of story that lies unspoken behind all the glossy corporate marketing of modern yoga.

And in truth I do my own looking back from time to time, hard though it is. Recently we were in my old uni town, the place where I became an adult and started to step out beyond the confines of upbringing and schooling. Hubby and I visited our old flat, our first home together. We stood on the old footbridge nearby watching the ducks on the stream. Without a garden, this was our little green oasis in the city. We’d come out here when I was really ill, unable to do much, but desperately craving some fresh air, exercise and the nourishment that comes from being in nature. Hubby used to hold my hand, careful to see I didn’t trip with the effort of picking up my feet in shoes that always felt too heavy. This was the furthest I could walk on some days. Revisiting this place we were both shocked at how close to home it really was — 30 meters maybe. That was my limit back then.


Well, now everything is different.

Hari Om.

2 thoughts on “How far

Add yours

  1. Im sorry that you are having to say goodbye to a friend. That is hard, especially one who shares something so personal as the journey through illness. You have such resistance and inner strength. Letting go is such a personal journey, but you don’t have to do it alone. glad you have your hubby and your teacher sounds like such a resource for you on so many levels. Sending you positive thoughts and high frequency vibrations today. Always great to read your posts.

    Liked by 3 people

    1. šŸ™ thank you for reading and commenting. You reflect back to me so clearly how Iā€™m feeling ā€” and somehow that gives me greater acceptance of the situation and allowing my emotions to be as they are, to honour them maybe rather than trying to rush through them. Hubby and Teacher each offer wonderful support, yes. As do kind blog readers! šŸ™‚ Loving those high frequency vibrations!šŸ’«

      Liked by 2 people

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