I’m doing this post all wrong.
As I write this, my head is throbbing. I feel dizziness, neck pain, worry.
But, like, A LOT.
It’s called occipital neuralgia. And, similar to a migraine (especially the kind that starts in the occipital lobe, or back of the brain), it also includes dizziness. The first time I experienced it, I described it to my husband as feeling “like someone stuck a high-powered magnet to the base of my skull that’s magnetized to the earth’s very core & gravity, itself.” It was that intense.
My goal for this weekly installment has been to sit down Sunday afternoon or evening or perhaps even early Monday morning & just write in flow about whatever is on my mind. You know: Be mindful.
Like, literally, whatever comes up in the moment becomes the message. And then that moment is meta-created for a greater presence when I (or you or one of our friends) need(s) to look back & remember, be re-minded, to be here (there, everywhere?) NOW. (Then? When?)
This is starting to feel like that scene in Spaceballs …
But I digress.
And, yeah, that’s the problem.
You see, here’s what’s happening:
There’s this weird thing called reality that is actually quite subjective & transitory. As we move our global human culture between linear & cyclical points of reference (think classic wall calendar vs. the rotation of the planetary solar system to mark one year), we get the opportunity to sort of zoom in & out of different perspectives … say, while using the connection platform aptly named Zoom to talk to someone on the other side of the world——in one shared moment that spans two different dates on the calendar & multiple time zones across the globe.
Ah, time ….
If this post is making your head spin, you’re welcome. I mean, I’m sorry. And I also mean: Join the club. My head was spinning with this new symptom too much to post last week for Mindful Monday. I had to concede to be present to that moment & not write. And as I write this——on a Thursday of all days, not the intended calendar days——it has been mildly coming & going.
There’s this interesting precursor, I am finding, to my own, head-spinning occipital neuralgia: Grokking too much at once.
(Not familiar with the term “grok”? You can either read all of Stranger in a Strange Land or you can just look it up here. It’s also officially in the dictionary now, & has its own Wikipedia page that reminds us that author Robert Heinlein’s original sci-fi usage was so much more nuanced than our standard dictionary definition of today.)
It may seem like a non-sequitur, but the reality is this: My head just stopped spinning. And I just got a text message that my mother-in-law, hospital- & body-bound these past several months, has officially transitioned to the other side just now.
It’s a lot to take in. And we just (sort of) experienced it together: I, in real time right now; & you whenever you read this, your very own “now.”
(Please let me pass you a tissue.)
While my sons & I have just lit a candle & said our prayers along with our thank-you-I-love-you-I’m-sorry-please-forgive-me’s, we——after months of gradually letting go & preparing for this moment——have made haste with our usual reverence to move forward. Last week on Monday, we expected this to come. And we stayed patient & present. Candle lit. Music playing. Reverence on high.
Until we learned about her re-stabilization & went on with our day.
And now, we return to our day similarly, but awakened from grief this time to move on some level away from the wider reality of any realms beyond our day-to-day lives … for now.
Do you see the irony?
And do you know what else is weird?
As I looked up natural cures for occipital neuralgia in perimenopause in the weeks between my first & third onset, the only one consistently recommended cure I came across was one I found on hospital pages, Reddit threads & disorder-specific chat sites across the U.S., U.K. & Australia (I only read posts on this in English):
That’s right. Centering our spinning heads——especially at the wise woman cusp of life force transition from life-creator to lived crone——is apparently exactly what we need to stop the spins & BE HERE NOW (wherever & whenever now is). It’s about connecting to the reality of higher realms even as we stand still & let go of it all to be exactly where we are right now.
I am.
My younger son is a little guru in a lot of ways. You may disagree with this, but he celebrates death as a freedom from the body (which is not something I ever set out to teach him); he dances with joy naturally whenever someone we love passes——even stray cats that we may feed. It offends his brother, who finds it irreverent.
But can they both be right as they mourn in polar opposite ways?
My own body tells me: You are learning too much too fast. Or: You see lessons you don’t know how to apply. Or perhaps: Quick change is scary.
My heart also lets me know when I’m grieving. I sometimes wake up with heavy heart pain as a familiar body grief. And I know I’ll get that text or phone call the next day about someone who has meant a lot to me (even if their passing was unexpected).
It’s an intuition that expresses itself physically. A human dowsing rod that can make no real predictions.
What is the point?
And here I come to my point: There’s a bigger world than what I see, hear, feel. There are feelings, physical & emotional & spiritual & otherwise, that let me know things I may not otherwise know … even as I know that I know nothing truly for certain.
If this post has made your head spin, take heart, hold your head: Let’s ground ourselves——now, together——in timeless community. I’m making a meditation on body wisdom for both of us. Listen whenever you need it.
… One more thing:
If this post has left you untethered or unsettled & you feel like you don’t have time to meditate in this moment, check out an even quicker tool for grounding presence from Generation Mindful:
These PeaceMakers Affirmations Cards have been useful tools for me, personally (& for my kiddos & for the preschool children I have helped to teach over the years): Pull one at any time to get a centering message (like, “I am still,” or “I am surrounded by love. I trust the world & let love in”). I’m pulling one now for my sweet mother-in-law as she rises to rest in peace ….
