I am ready

I figure, after all the spiritual and emotional work I have done these last few weeks, I have earned the right to drop a Valium. I did just that last night and I don’t regret it a bit.

For those of us still reliant (if judiciously) on Western medicine, living in Santa Cruz can be tough. After all, this is ground zero for woo woo-ness. I suspect there are more alternative health care providers in Santa Cruz per square mile than almost anywhere else. A masseuse is probably living next door. Acupuncturists? A dime a dozen. There’s a chiropractor on every corner, not to mention the homeopathic doctors, hypnotherapists, naturopaths, craniosacral therapists, reiki energy healers, and psychics lurking behind every tree.

It’s easy to laugh. The flowing, formless Indian print skirts are so central casting. The soulful sound of Native American drums, the smell of sage and lavender, the walls decorated with Tibetan peace flags, and the calm countenance of the “airhead” practitioner are all easy marks for the Saturday Night Live sketch artist. They are so mockable while the guys in the white coats (the medical kind, not the psychiatric variety) are so damn clean and reasonable.

I’m from the East Coast. I understand. But in the last few weeks my fear drove me to experience many of these modalities (as they are so officiously referred) for the first time and I am better, stronger and wiser for it. I arrived at the appointments with my patina of skepticism and my bullshit meter hidden in my purse. With each “cleansing breath” it collected data to be analyzed later.

Well, time has passes. The data has been examined. The day has arrive and I am ready. My body is oddly calm this morning, sans Valium. The hot coals of my fear seem to have dissipated. In 3 hours, J and I will get in the car and head for the Surgery Center. I may or may not pop a Valium between now and then. But, if I do I will do it knowing that it is not to calm my spirit, for my spirit is clean and clear. I am running from nothing, hiding from nothing. I am ready. Yes, I am ready.

Thank you all.

This afternoon I fled the construction site that is my house for a picnic bench by the ocean. With my laptop screened by the shade of the eucalyptus trees, the following message arrived:

This powerful lure is just down the street, a stone's throw away, yet mostly you ignore it. Just because it's here all the time doesn't lessen it's significance. There are times in your life, Cathy, when the sameness of life blinds you to the truly magnificent. Your “to dos” roll one into the other, never ending, never finished. The ordinariness of your responsibilities overshadows the miracle that is right in front of you. Life is an uncanny and perpetually exciting balance between the everyday and extraordinary. Even that word, EXTRAordinary, is wrong headed. There is nothing extra about it. What you would call extraordinary is, in fact, ordinary. Put on your other glasses and you’ll see of what I am speaking.

What glasses?

You should know by now I don’t answer questions for which you already have the answer. I am here to serve, not save. Close your eyes and you will see.