{"id":7954,"date":"2020-02-03T13:35:33","date_gmt":"2020-02-03T13:35:33","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.donnaionadrozda.com\/lifecycle\/?p=7954"},"modified":"2020-02-03T13:58:58","modified_gmt":"2020-02-03T13:58:58","slug":"the-weight-of-the-world","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.donnaionadrozda.com\/lifecycle\/the-weight-of-the-world\/","title":{"rendered":"The Weight of the World"},"content":{"rendered":"

<\/h4>\n

Most unhappiness comes from not being able to sit quietly in a room.<\/span><\/h4>\n

Pascal<\/span><\/h4>\n

I’m mapping out a year of recovery from a traumatic injury. As a seventy-year-old artist, I am choosing to address the fear as well as the creative opportunities that made themselves known while healing took place. I could not have known the levels and layers that my body would need to attend to. The final piece, many months out was a shattered nervous system. More about that later. I share this experience with the deep desire to ‘mind-map’ a possible recovery approach to support and encourage you and others, should the need arise. <\/span><\/h4>\n

Decades ago I learned of these six basic fears identified by Napolean Hill:<\/span><\/h4>\n

1. Poverty<\/span><\/h4>\n

\n2.\u00a0Criticism<\/span><\/h4>\n

\n3.\u00a0Ill Health<\/span><\/h4>\n

\n4.\u00a0Loss of Love<\/span><\/h4>\n

\n5.\u00a0Old Age<\/span><\/h4>\n

\n6.\u00a0Death<\/span><\/h4>\n

Culturally, if not personally, we are aware of the power of each and all of these. In Buddhism, we’re taught that life is suffering. There is the suffering of birth, old age, sickness, and death. And through the ages, Wise Ones, including Buddha, have been leaving clues regarding how to create Peace on Earth. Can’t have peace with poverty, criticism, ill health, loss of love, old age or death. What to do? It’s one of those questions each has to ask and then see what answer comes.<\/span><\/h4>\n

<\/h4>\n

I have an existential map. <\/span><\/em><\/h4>\n


\nIt has \u2018You are here.\u2019 Written all over it.<\/span><\/em><\/h4>\n

Steven Wright<\/span><\/h4>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

<\/h4>\n

Four days after the earthquake occurred (in the backyard when the squirrel, dog, tree root and my boot all configured to take me down). I wrote into my journal with my non-dominate hand:<\/span><\/h4>\n

\"\"<\/h4>\n

\u00a9 Drozda journal\u00a0 entry, December 10, 2018<\/span><\/p>\n

I fell down.<\/span><\/h4>\n

I got up.<\/span><\/h4>\n

I am joyfully unstoppable.<\/span><\/h4>\n

I think and act creatively in the present moment soothing and <\/span><\/h4>\n

containing the 19-year-old me who carried <\/span><\/h4>\n

the feeling of failure in her bones.<\/span><\/h4>\n

It\u2019s how I imagine myself that matters.<\/span><\/h4>\n

I matter.<\/span><\/h4>\n

<\/h4>\n

My yoga mantra in place:<\/span><\/h4>\n

Save the self by the Self<\/span><\/strong><\/h4>\n

Never upset the self.<\/span><\/strong><\/h4>\n

The Self is the only friend of self<\/span><\/strong><\/h4>\n

The self is the only foe of Self.<\/span><\/strong><\/h4>\n

<\/h4>\n

Sitting in my bed with a shattered right arm I rest. I wonder. I get curious. When in my life have I been in a situation that stops everything? I am reminded. I feel called to turn my attention to the gifts that came at that earlier time. I lean back and close my eyes and I see Dr. Robert Perchan offering me kindness when I was shattered at age nineteen. He gifted me with his own copy of<\/span>\u00a0Psycho-Cybernetics<\/a>. <\/u><\/em>\u00a0<\/span><\/h4>\n

Now as a grown woman I sit in my bed and turn my attention back in time to offer my own kindness to that young girl\/woman. I soothe my traumatized nineteen-year-old. I’m deeply curious as to how she made her way. Perhaps she holds a clue for my forward movement now. <\/span>Looking back I can see, as in any good teaching story, that she received the gift of 3 talismans; the letter, and two books. Carrying these protections she began the long climb out of the dark.<\/span><\/h4>\n

I imagine her, in 1968, holding the gift copy of the book in her hands and attempting, through a shattered world view, to make sense of:<\/span><\/h4>\n

You must have a wholesome self-esteem.
\nYou must have a self that you can trust and believe in.
\nYou must have a self that you are not ashamed to \u201cBE\u201d,
\nand one that you can feel free to express creatively,
\nrather than hide or cover up.<\/em><\/span><\/h4>\n

You must have a self that corresponds to reality
\nso that you can function effectively in a real world.<\/em><\/span><\/h4>\n

You must know yourself _ both your strengths
\nand your weaknesses and be honest with yourself
\nconcerning both. Your self-image must be a reasonable
\napproximation of \u2018you\u2019, rather being neither
\nmore than you are, nor less than you are.<\/em><\/span><\/h4>\n

When this self-image is intact and secure, you feel \u2018good\u2019.
\nWhen it is threatened you feel anxious and insecure.
\nWhen it is adequate and one that you can be wholesomely proud of,
\nyou feel self-confident. You feel free to \u2018Be Yourself,\u2019
\nand to express yourself.
\nYou function at optimum.<\/em><\/span><\/h4>\n

<\/h4>\n

The day before my first appointment with the trauma surgeon, I set my goal:<\/span><\/h4>\n

Return to full bone\/arm health<\/span><\/strong><\/h4>\n

Total healing.<\/span><\/strong><\/h4>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

\u00a9 Drozda journal entry, December 12, 2018<\/span><\/h4>\n

<\/h4>\n

Reality sets in; it’s the 7-day mark. <\/span><\/h4>\n

I meet with the surgeon and I require the full support of my Holy Helpers and my Mighty Companions.<\/span><\/h4>\n

I have a serious, traumatic injury. Required: time and constant attention for the foreseeable future.<\/span><\/h4>\n

The surgeon defines the level of injury to my arm and shoulder, \u201ca Humpty-Dumpty break\u201d. He tells me that, “Our goal is to heal to the point where eventually you will be able to touch the top of your head with the injured right arm. We want you to be able to shampoo your hair and put the dishes away on the low shelf in the cupboard.”<\/span><\/h4>\n

My stomach drops. My terror-edge erupts. How does optimism function now? <\/span><\/h4>\n

I immediately tell myself, ‘he doesn’t know me.’<\/span><\/h4>\n

I breathe in and begin the arduous journey of gathering MY strength.\u00a0<\/span><\/h4>\n

<\/h4>\n

I am Here!<\/span><\/strong><\/h4>\n

How empowered I am!<\/span><\/strong><\/h4>\n

How empowered am I? <\/span><\/strong><\/h4>\n

<\/h4>\n

The day after the meeting with the surgeon I journal:<\/span><\/strong><\/h4>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

\u00a9 Drozda journal entry, December 14, 2018<\/span><\/p>\n

I need help to shoulder this new experience. I need help and support. Really. Really. I really need help and support. I need to form a picture of a genuine possibility. I need a visual image. I need a focused direction for the six months ahead. <\/span><\/h4>\n

My journal entries unfold. I am listening to healing guided meditations on Youtube as I sit motionless, visualizing the healing that is taking place, the healing that knows how to happen without me doing anything except holding the vision of what is possible.’ <\/span><\/h4>\n

On December 23, 2018, I felt ready to let my fragmented, frightened, invisible and alone nineteen-year-old know that I see her. I let her know that at my current age I recognize that there is nothing to fix. I can’t change anything from the past. I can only integrate her splintered self back into the fold by soothing and containing her ‘defrosting fear’. This experience has made her stir. The 50-year-old terror is reactivating. It’s my responsibility to make clear to myself, and to all parts of this journey, that we are present in the here-and-now. No regression.<\/span><\/h4>\n

 <\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

\u00a9 Drozda Journal entry, December 23, 2018<\/span><\/p>\n

She begins to remind me of her exceptional willingness to ‘think different’. She begins to help me recognize that we can take on this healing journey hand in hand. <\/span><\/h4>\n

Thank you for being here. <\/span><\/h4>\n

I truly appreciate your support in piecing together a story of deep and focused healing. Thank you for reading, commenting, sharing and being open to the rich field of options available to us as we journey. <\/span><\/h4>\n

<\/h4>\n

A monk asked Tairyu: “The physical body rots away.
\n<\/span>What is the hard and fast body of reality.”<\/span><\/h4>\n

Tairyu said: “The mountain flowers bloom like brocade,<\/span>
\nthe valley streams are brimming with blue as indigo.”<\/span><\/h4>\n

Zen Koan<\/span><\/h4>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Most unhappiness comes from not being able to sit quietly in a room. Pascal I’m mapping out a year of recovery from a traumatic injury. As a seventy-year-old artist, I am choosing to address the fear as well as the creative opportunities that made themselves known while healing took place. I could not have known […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[36,193,99,206,32],"tags":[262,276,259,260],"class_list":["post-7954","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-artlife","category-creative-life","category-donna-iona-drozda","category-natural-energy-management","category-starting-over","tag-aging-and-injury","tag-osteoporosis","tag-traumatic-injury","tag-yoga"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"aioseo_notices":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p6htPT-24i","jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.donnaionadrozda.com\/lifecycle\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7954","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.donnaionadrozda.com\/lifecycle\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.donnaionadrozda.com\/lifecycle\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.donnaionadrozda.com\/lifecycle\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.donnaionadrozda.com\/lifecycle\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=7954"}],"version-history":[{"count":15,"href":"https:\/\/www.donnaionadrozda.com\/lifecycle\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7954\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":7976,"href":"https:\/\/www.donnaionadrozda.com\/lifecycle\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7954\/revisions\/7976"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.donnaionadrozda.com\/lifecycle\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=7954"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.donnaionadrozda.com\/lifecycle\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=7954"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.donnaionadrozda.com\/lifecycle\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=7954"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}