The Upside of Loss
In this respect, the loss is specifically the loss of the cyst that was removed from my external uterine wall a little over a week ago.
The fear of what the cyst could be (cancer) weighed on my mind before the surgery, but I never let myself fully form the thought that it was even a possibility. Of course I knew the possibility was there, but I refused to acknowledge it until I knew for certain.
When I got the call last Monday that the cyst was indeed just a cyst (sometimes a cigar is just a cigar?), my stomach muscles were still too sore for me to whoop and holler or cry with relief. So a couple of nights later, after my first day back at work, emotion finally got the better of me, threatening to choke me if I didn't let it out.
I wept for joy that it wasn't cancer. I wept for the pain of missing my parents. I wept out all the unexpressed terror for what might have been. I wept with thankfulness that my wonderful, beautiful partner was there holding me up.
Suddenly, the next evening, I wanted to work on arranging music for Bodacious Ladyhood. With energy I hadn't felt in more than a year, I started work on an arrangement of the national anthem (so we can maybe get a gig singing for the Mariners or something :o)) and worked for about 90 minutes, ending the session with one phrase done and a clear map of what the arrangement was going to be. Keep in mind that this task was set to me just about a year ago and I've never been able to even start it.
After that and a couple of nights of strange, very vivid dreams, I started talking to N about what the cyst might have meant spiritually.
The first thought was that perhaps now the worry is over and I felt I could move forward. But that was too simple. The lack of creative energy has been with me for much longer than the knowledge of the cyst and the need for its removal.
The next thought was that perhaps it was my grief. The grief and loss of my parents, of the QNOTKU, of Casanova. That made a little more sense to me.
Then N and I went to a friend's house last evening to hang out, watch a movie and chat. We got to talking about creative projects. A talked about her book project (micro-macrame, I think it's called...a craft book she wrote that's being published by St. Martin's Press). L asked me how my writing was coming and what else I was up to creatively.
So I told L & A about the conversations N & I had been having that day. And we came up with some other options.
A mentioned that the womb is the seat of creation in a woman's body. Something foreign, something that didn't belong was growing there inside me. The cyst was robbing my body of energy that would have otherwise gone to creating.
L said that physical energy blocks can also create spiritual energy blocks that can rob one of the energy to create.
I think that all of these hold some truth in my situation. There were many thieves stealing my energy. But they seem to be gone now. Amazingly gone.
I'm still trying to take it easy. I made myself nap both yesterday and today. And I really should be getting to bed now (stupid time change...I'm not ready to go to bed. Stupid Bush.)
But for the first time in a very long time, I am deeply hopeful for the future and excited to make plans.
Perhaps it's as simple as coming closer to my own mortality than I ever have before in my life.
Whatever it is, it feels good to be back!
The fear of what the cyst could be (cancer) weighed on my mind before the surgery, but I never let myself fully form the thought that it was even a possibility. Of course I knew the possibility was there, but I refused to acknowledge it until I knew for certain.
When I got the call last Monday that the cyst was indeed just a cyst (sometimes a cigar is just a cigar?), my stomach muscles were still too sore for me to whoop and holler or cry with relief. So a couple of nights later, after my first day back at work, emotion finally got the better of me, threatening to choke me if I didn't let it out.
I wept for joy that it wasn't cancer. I wept for the pain of missing my parents. I wept out all the unexpressed terror for what might have been. I wept with thankfulness that my wonderful, beautiful partner was there holding me up.
Suddenly, the next evening, I wanted to work on arranging music for Bodacious Ladyhood. With energy I hadn't felt in more than a year, I started work on an arrangement of the national anthem (so we can maybe get a gig singing for the Mariners or something :o)) and worked for about 90 minutes, ending the session with one phrase done and a clear map of what the arrangement was going to be. Keep in mind that this task was set to me just about a year ago and I've never been able to even start it.
After that and a couple of nights of strange, very vivid dreams, I started talking to N about what the cyst might have meant spiritually.
The first thought was that perhaps now the worry is over and I felt I could move forward. But that was too simple. The lack of creative energy has been with me for much longer than the knowledge of the cyst and the need for its removal.
The next thought was that perhaps it was my grief. The grief and loss of my parents, of the QNOTKU, of Casanova. That made a little more sense to me.
Then N and I went to a friend's house last evening to hang out, watch a movie and chat. We got to talking about creative projects. A talked about her book project (micro-macrame, I think it's called...a craft book she wrote that's being published by St. Martin's Press). L asked me how my writing was coming and what else I was up to creatively.
So I told L & A about the conversations N & I had been having that day. And we came up with some other options.
A mentioned that the womb is the seat of creation in a woman's body. Something foreign, something that didn't belong was growing there inside me. The cyst was robbing my body of energy that would have otherwise gone to creating.
L said that physical energy blocks can also create spiritual energy blocks that can rob one of the energy to create.
I think that all of these hold some truth in my situation. There were many thieves stealing my energy. But they seem to be gone now. Amazingly gone.
I'm still trying to take it easy. I made myself nap both yesterday and today. And I really should be getting to bed now (stupid time change...I'm not ready to go to bed. Stupid Bush.)
But for the first time in a very long time, I am deeply hopeful for the future and excited to make plans.
Perhaps it's as simple as coming closer to my own mortality than I ever have before in my life.
Whatever it is, it feels good to be back!