Today is my first full day back at Plum Village. I arrived yesterday evening. Plum Village. I arrived yesterday evening.
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Two nights ago I couldn’t sleep. Sleeplessness is a rarity for me. Too much coffee and sugar consumed on my first day in Essaouira? Solstice? Excitement? While tossing and turning I got up and decided to do some research about the Jews of Essaouira. Once a large vibrant community of merchants and silversmiths, now nearly vanished. When I finally gave up on trying to sleep, I mapped out my route and headed for the Mellah neighborhood and the Haïm Pinto Synagogue.
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Late night in a Paris hotel two weeks before the American election, 15 minutes into watching a recording on my laptop of a Michele Obama speech recorded in New Hampshire, my 80-year old mother resisting sleep in bed next to me says, “Have you ever been sexually abused?”
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My legs are starting to remember what it means to support each other in partnership. I got a clear download in rehab today while focusing energy on the wounded knee as pivot point for the rest of the body.
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The attachments are tight. So tight they locked the muscles in place and transported quads and hams into a state of amnesia. Memory coming back. Unsteady in the knee joint as muscle memory returns.
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I am learning how to become my own healer. I am learning to listen to my body. I have a strong need for analytical understanding and confirmation of what my body is sensing and trying to communicate.
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In two days this week I tried six different healing modalities for my knee. Difficult to discern which input had which impact. I was full of energy at 10:30 pm when usually I’m sore and can barely move or keep my eyes open.
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Walking slowly like a robot. That’s how I am. A friend who is not on Facebook contacted me today because she hadn’t seen an update on my blog for a month. I was amazed that anyone noticed. I’ll start with a health update. It’s been 11 weeks since I tore my right meniscus. I decided about 10 weeks ago to not have surgery. I will post some articles below which support my decision. I’ve been actively doing physical therapy, and pursuing alternatives. My quads just starting working about a week ago.
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I had vivid dreams this morning that felt real and shook me awake. I felt myself being submerged underwater and then forcefully pulled. At first it was scary, and then it felt good. I realized that the person pulling me was a physical therapist and was yanking me toward healing.
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In November of 2011 I attended my first 10-day silent meditation retreat at Spirit Rock. Waiting around in the dining hall for the others to check in, having a few last moments of random conversation. Advice was flowing from other more experienced meditators, things like, “you won’t make it to every session,” and “remember, there’s no meditation police.”
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