Nature’s healing…

This weekend I have learnt that reaching different milestones comes in so many varying and unexpected forms.

I wrote previously about achieving the goal to drive 30,000 kms (See post 30,000 Kilometres dated 4/11/24) after years of not being able to get behind the wheel. This time it’s the discovery on how well I handle being alone while feeling unwell. It doesn’t sound like much of an achievement, but when I took the leap of faith to leave an unhealthy relationship after 20 years, I recall how dismal and dark it felt to be alone for the first time with flu like symptoms.

I left my relationship in October 2022. In March 2023, I had the worse flu-like symptoms I had ever experienced; I carried out a COVID test and for all means and purposes, the faint line that was produced, using what was potentially an out of date test, suggested COVID over flu.

I was bed-bound for days; my body was ravaged with lethargy and pain. I told few people that I was ill, I didn’t want to be a bother to anyone or to put anyone at risk of catching what I had. But at the same time, I felt the intense need to be loved and cared for too; the kind of love and care that a parent gives to their child, or a lover to their partner. The kind of love that has no boundaries, where the love is so deep for the other, that you’d take their illness away for them if you could.

It was with this thought that I realised that I had never had that kind of love, which begged the question whether it exists in the first place. Nonetheless, it left me feeling low and pitiful. In fits of fevers, my thoughts turned to darkness and what my death would look like. A tad dramatic I know, but aloneness when ill, combined with days spent in bed, turned my thoughts to who would miss me if I should die; I could count them on one hand. I felt intensely sorry for myself, such sadness, which was compounded by the weightiness of fear. I was trapped in the fear of scarcity, motivated daily to survive and struggling the side swipe of sickness forcing stillness, which stopped me from providing for myself. I had to turn down work, which meant the loss of much needed income, which produced more fear. The cycle was endless. I knew my body needed to rest, but I hated myself for being weak. I felt helpless and cried a lot; I was consumed by the fear of not being able to survive on my own. It felt very bleak.

The distance I have travelled from one bout of illness to the next is vast. My life hasn’t changed dramatically in that time, only my mindset.

This time, ravaged with similar flu-like symptoms, which has rendered me bed bound for a few days, instead of self-pity, I have felt an intense sense of self-love and care for myself, in listening and embracing my body’s need to rest. I have not been able to work and naturally I have thought of the lost income and how that will impact on my ability to pay bills later in the month. But I did not dwell on this thought too long, I acknowledged it and then let it go. I then recognised my trust in my journey and my Holy Father to always ensure that I am and have always been able to provide for myself adequately, I have never truly gone without; thus the fear I have for scarcity is unfounded.

On focusing on the idea of scarcity, I realised that I not only link this to the fear of not having enough money, but also to love and companionship. Illness compounds the sense of loneliness. Yet if I reflect back on this, haven’t I pretty much always been alone when I was ill throughout my entire life?

I recall being hospitalised twice in childhood and again in my teens. On each occasion, my eczema had been very bad; in my teens the condition had worsened to the point of infection. My parents barely visited, they claimed they were too busy. I would spend weeks, sometimes over a month feeling forgotten in hospital. I’d observe other patients receiving visitors, who came with gifts of flowers, fruit and chocolate. It didn’t make me cry because somehow, I was used to the way I was treated; I was already accustomed to what was to be the common theme for many years of the ability to normalise poor treatment.

Instead, I focused on reading and the kindness of the nurses who recognising my lack of visitors, would bring me treats of sweets and magazines. I also journaled, and wrote about the food I ate, for I was unaccustomed to three meals a day; in my teen years, I was given leftovers and forced to eat alone in my bedroom away from family. I also focused on the few visits from my Grandma, which for her, were difficult; she did not drive and was dependent on catching a bus to the hospital. She also cared for my Granddad who prior to his death, was in a wheelchair and needed 24/7 care.  Hence, I consoled myself that apart from my Grandma, that I was in fact, better alone than with the people who called themselves family. I learnt that it was not the number of family members that mattered, but the quality of the few.

Nonetheless, it is no surprise that I ended up marrying someone who treated illness in the same way as my childhood family. Who, on the rare occasions I was ill, would leave me alone at home while he went out for the day. He claimed that he didn’t do illness, so instead of caring for my needs, as I did his, ignored them. Hence, should I not be used to coping with illness on my own anyway?

What I can say, in this reflective mood, is that when I think back to the illness of March 2022, I do feel somewhat ignorant and selfish at the self-pity I afforded myself back then. I now think of the thousand plus people who live alone, who suffer from far worse conditions and do not get the support they may need. However, there is a realisation too that I need to be kind to myself, as we all do, in recognising that there are no right or wrong emotions, we experience and feel what we do for a reason, and it’s important to embrace every part of the Self as it enables our own growth.

In doing so, I have turned self-pity in to self-love; learning to acknowledge the strengths and resilience I have acquired, starting from childhood. I have learnt that I can depend on my Self and my trust in Holy Father to co-create perfect harmony and healing in my life. With no remedies to treat my symptoms and living too far away to attain medicine, I listened to the guidance I received to rest. On the first day, I opened my bedroom window to the winter sun and took a hot water bottle to bed to sleep for as long as my body needed to. I allowed the sun to bathe my bedroom with orange light; I listened to the sound of nature outside. Later, failing to feel hungry, I ate some comforting vegetable soup I had made during the week.

On the second day, today, I managed to go outdoors to sit in the winter sun. I picked some oranges from the tree and made them into a hot beverage served with local honey. Wrapped in a blanket to ward off the shivers, I drank the hot beverage, while listening to the birds, and a host of bees buzzing around two blossom trees. I felt the sun on my face and breathed in the mountain air. In the distance, I could hear the bleating of goats and the tinkling of their neck bells, presumably waiting for the herdsman to take them on their daily mountain walk to feast on the earth’s bountiful harvest of food.

Allowing rest and nature to assist in my healing, I thought of all the people who regularly make an impact on my life, more than the original five that I claimed I could count on one hand. I thought back to a week that has seen me enjoy dinner and a sleepover at a friend’s house and quality time with another friend. Several wonderful messages from my daughter and a third friend. Plus, messages from my boss and friend, who has just offered to get me food supplies if needed. I have also enjoyed time in the week with my Twin Flame. My life is blessed. 

So, while is sucks to be poorly, I am determined to sit with the experience. To give gratitude for the strong child I was and the woman I have now become. To also give thanks to the fact that I can put everything on hold while my body and nature is able to heal itself; nothing is more important or pressing than personal wellness.  I also acknowledge that I feel at peace that I will be able to source the funds to still pay my bills at the end of the month; I will just put that out to the Universe, to my Holy Father, to ensure that the opportunities arise for this to happen, and it is done. 

In the meantime, when I have enough energy, I know that there is a supply of carrots and ginger in my fridge, which is destined to be made into another pot of wholesome and comforting soup.  

I think as a reminder to myself, the next time I hear of someone I know feeling unwell, I intend to remember the importance of reaching out to them, I don’t want to leave anyone feeling that they are truly alone, even if they appear to already have family and friends around them; I once had that, but it meant nothing. I can offer reiki, to make soup or to run errands. I can simply sit with them.

Thus, as I wait for the bigger and more serious aspects of my life to evolve, to have updates and developments, I feel content with the progress of my mindset, which allows me to feel a sense of peace and harmony, in the simple knowing that all is well and perfect. I am co-creating the future I desire and trusting in the pathway and the process to that realisation.

With love & gratitude always,

Sally Jayne

xxx