Year Four's focus was about finding my voice. When I wrote those words shortly after returning from Greece, I wanted to find my voice as a teacher, transform the wisdom I had received in my years of study and use my own experience to teach others. I immersed myself in teaching as much as I could, at one point teaching 9 classes a week.
I think this is the case of be careful what you ask for. The voice I ultimately was forced to listen to, was my that of my body. To learn that pain is a message and sometimes that message is "stop." I got to learn how uncomfortable it is to be sit in a doctor's office and say "it is not getting better." I had to learn that it was okay to give my pain a voice and descriptions so that i could figure out different methods to treat it. I also learned the silence of people's lives moving on when you feel like you are standing still, the silence of no longer being able to do the things you used to be able to do and people falling away. There is a silence within change and transformation, the silence of someone else when you start saying "no."
This was a really difficult year to look back on, because I wanted to compare and be able to say I am physically better. However I read the post about what it is like to take 20 pills a day, and mentally found myself counting how many herbs and supplements I am still taking. I found myself calculating how often I still reach for medications. Then when I read the post about insurance not covering a treatment and being in that same situation now, it feels like no progress has been made.
I forced myself to zoom out. My flares no longer confine me to bed for days, I am constantly improving and figuring out what is necessary to take on a daily basis and what is necessary when I start to feel a flare. Yes, Adam and I are trying to determine if a treatment is worth it when insurance doesn't cover it. There is no guarantee that my nerves will respond, or even that there is an issue with my nerves; so where is that voice to help guide me right now?
That is the voice that I have cultivated a relationship with not just in year four but also in year five. That little inner voice, that requires silence, patience and trust. That is the voice that reminds me to zoom in, zoom out or change the focus. It is the voice that sometimes has to scream to get my attention, it is a voice that I resent sometimes and yet it has never left me. Finding my voice was much more about listening to myself then speaking, the first step is hearing and accepting the message for what it is. The awareness has to be there before language can form.
Question of the day: What can you listen to today? What is not being said in the busy, noisy lives we live?