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I love you

great love

I saw an article on Twitter on loving your cancer: http://omtimes.com/2014/08/loving-cancer-good-health/ My knee-jerk reaction was, “Are you crazy??” Love… I mean… Love something that has the potential to kill me or at the very least cause me a whole lot of misery? Love? Ok, so I read the article and it was good. More thoughts on that later.

My nightly research, wandering, link-hopping led me on a further path that had this love theme coming up regularly. My dear friend, Michelle, gave me the link to some music, which took me to Youtube and, being the compulsive link-clicker I am, I was soon going on to other related music. One link led to another and I found myself revisiting Ho’oponopono. Ho’oponopono is a Hawaiian practice of forgiveness and love. There is a lot to it, but, in short, it is a prayer you recite with healing intention:

I’m sorry
I love you
Please forgive me
Thank you

This prayer can be directed at any one or any thing. At no time does it mean you condone the ‘wrong’ that’s been done. This is also no pat, meaningless apology, just heartfelt love and a letting go of all negative emotions relating to the person, event, thing – or yourself. Yes, you could say it to yourself or parts of yourself.

I’ve used this prayer before, though very rarely. To be honest, I usually forget it exists. Once, I had a confrontation with a colleague at work. The next day, I dreaded going to work fully expecting a continuation of the confrontation – I don’t do confrontation very well – as the situation hadn’t been resolved the day before. In my flurry of tension over the situation, I decided to do some Ho’oponopono. I, rather dramatically, held my hand over my heart, focussed on the colleague and recited the prayer a few times. Arriving at work, the colleague couldn’t have been nicer. She apologised! She also explained why she’d acted the way she had. Now I don’t know if what happened was a result of the Ho’oponopono or just co-incidence. I’m going to choose to believe my little forgiveness ritual had its desired effect. I’ve used it since on other situations and had good effect. It may well just be because of my own mental state being altered. That’s also good.

Going through my mailbox a little later, a sentence jumped out at me, “What’s wrong with you?” It’s what we’re asked when something’s out of place. Or simply a “What’s wrong?” There’s so much negativity and fear in those words. It’s something that’s been brought home to me over and over with this cancer deal. Fear. Negativity. The doctor’s tone dropped to indicate severity. It was all over his voice and body language long before he got the words out, which were also negative, “I’m afraid I have to give you the news…” Why afraid? Why all the fear around cancer? Oh I can understand the fear! I can understand the anger, nay, the rage. I can understand the upset. But that’s the whole problem with sickness in our society. It’s wrapped up in fear because we aren’t in control of our bodies. We’ve handed that control over to the medical institutions and the supermarkets.

Today, I choose to take back control. I choose to love this thing that’s teaching me so much – ok, I’ll at least try. I choose to forgive my body for betraying me and this tumour for turning my life upside down. I choose to love my body and give it what it needs, treating it well. I choose to make mindful choices with what I put into my body. It’s my home, after all, and the vessel I will live in for many years to come. In moving into a home, I like to paint it a bright colour and make it beautiful, choosing my furnishings carefully. Why not with my body?

So, to this cancer I say…

I’m sorry
I love you
Please forgive me
Thank you

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Posted by on September 23, 2014 in cancer, healing, thought

 

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A ghost in the press

Funny how memories are set off. I was reading a book and a inconsequential conversation between two boys about the ‘ghost in the press’ caught the attention of long forgotten memories. At the first mention of the ‘press’, my mind went to printing, until logic suggested that, as they were in their bedroom, a clothes press was more appropriate.

ghost

What child doesn’t fantasise about monsters under the bed? I made a point of never having a foot or a hand over the edge of the bed just in case. I mean, you never know, right? I went through a phase of “if I can’t see them, they can’t see me” too, which started a lifelong habit of needing to be covered right up to my eyeballs. I still like to be completely covered – still afraid of the bogey-man? Perhaps, though I suspect the bogey-man has morphed into its adult form of a variety of nameless, faceless fears, but… it was the wardrobe that did it.

Many was the night I’d lie in bed staring at my dark-wood wardrobe, almost seeing it open and the skeleton hiding inside coming out to get me. It wasn’t always a skeleton. Some fears were far worse, some more insubstantial. Either way, the wardrobe was a horrifying element in the half-dark of my room.

Today, I wonder if the ‘skeletons in the cupboard’ talk of the adults around me weren’t at least partly to blame. The cupboard grew in my very vivid imagination to hold all manner of ills. I suspect there’s a little part of me… ok, perhaps not such a little part… that’s still somewhat afraid of what could come out of the wardrobe as soon as I let my guard down. I have no wardrobe in my current bedroom and the one I photographed is perfectly harmless… this wardrobe is in my mind – a dark, closed receptacle of nameless, faceless things that may or may not exist. Is it just me?

Naturally, if you had to ask me what I fear, I’d put my hands behind my back, lift my head and that same little girl will confidently say, “Nothing!” 

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Posted by on December 25, 2012 in memories, thought

 

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