Another week, another round of trying to get healthy.
I thought I had done well trying to ease myself back in after a round of the flu. But two nights of dance class and a night out drinking with the girls were fun … but perhaps overly ambitious. I spent last weekend in bed again, and have been pretty non-functional again this week.
The benefits of being sick:
I’ve been out of commission for so long, I’m having to step up my practice of asking for help. I’m so overly independent, I hate asking for help. I can’t even figure out what I need until I’m in tears and making jokes like, “Thank god I have the flu and have no appetite, so it’s no big deal that I have no food in the house.” Uh. I need to eat. And I know some damn good cooks who are happy to feed me if they know I need food.
I’m checked out of work enough, that I’m giving my co-worker plenty of space to step up and shine. Which she’s doing amazingly, of course.
I am remembering that my spiritual practice for now is to practice taking care of myself. Cooking meditation. Eating meditation. Resting meditation. Walking around the block and not any farther meditation.
My favorite new tool is “invoking Grandma.” My friend and I decided that we both needed a mom in our lives, someone who would yell at us, and know magically when we needed to get our asses in bed, and when we were just being lazy and needed to get up and face the world. In my head, she turned into a crotchety old Grandma who says fuck a lot, and won’t put up with my whining.
“Put some goddam socks on! I don’t care if you are wearing a skirt and it looks stupid! You are sick, and you need socks if you are going to go outside.”
“If you want to eat, you need to eat at the table like a normal person. What is this eating in front of your computer anyway? It’s so rude, and a waste of a perfectly good meal when you could be eating on the porch and get some sun while you are at it. Get your ass out there!”
“Are you on that Face-thing again? Why do you need to see what Janey Whatsit and Joseph Sonofagun ate for breakfast? Who the hell cares? And if you care so much, why don’t you just call them and ask?”
“What are you doing out of bed missy? Do you want to be sick the rest of your life, or do you want to get better?”
Grandma is kicking my ass. But I just might get healthy in the process.