Tip for Grievers #29

Pleasure and pain can coexist. You have to get used to it.

I was lucky enough today to do a guided meditation with my friend, body work practitioner, and fellow explorer Lars Kallman. I've been having a hard time identifying my emotions. I tend to say I'm just fine until I fall apart. So the intention we set for today's session was to help me with more clearly seeing my emotions. It led me to place filled with both peace and pain. I'd like to share that experience with you.

As Lars began to lead me into relaxation, I felt as though a bolt was screwed into the bone above my right eyebrow. This bolt, rusted and craggy, was part of a metal band that fitted closely to my skull and ran around my head, where it connected to the spot where my skull met my neck. The sharp sear radiated from my forehead to my neck, then spread across to my left shoulder. As I breathed deeply, the pain seemed to melt into a pool of sadness within me, below my shoulder and impinging on my heart.

The rest of me was open and peaceful. Wide open spaces reminiscent of the old DeYoung California gallery, but more Asian. Pebble floors. Quiet, restful, enough. Outside an early morning sun starting breaking through the swirling fog. It began to suffuse my body, spreading into my legs, which until then had been merely dark corridors. Suddenly I smelled something clear and green - like eucalyptus mixed with morning dew. I realized an indoor garden had sprung up from my pelvic floor. Beautiful and verdant, it formed a lush contrast with all the peaceful space, but welcome.

Then a thin sheet of water began to spread in my body. With it came water lilies drifting through me. Except to that pool of sadness in my left shoulder. Life a hot tub connected to a larger pool, the sadness persisted and I realized it extended downward, seemingly into the ground through my left arm.

Both coexisting - peace and pain.