Another Installment on Life

What's that thing about being in the right place at the right time? Well, yesterday was a whole day of those moments for me. I did not realize how much I would really enjoy volunteering at the Louisiana 2Step booth! I enjoyed seeing all the kids and all the parents with their kids at the Health Expo. My path with my new education and skill set (coupled with everything that has come before) becomes more and more clear day by day.

I have 9 weeks until I complete my program in massage therapy. It's only natural that most folks ask me, well, what are your next steps? Are you going to work at one of the local spas or start your own business. My response is pretty much the same--'well, I am not quite sure yet. I have some options and know a few therapists that would let me rent a room, but I am not sure if I need to go work for someone else to get a higher volume of people to work within a short period of time'. Most people tend to think I should go work for someone else so I could build up a client base. And, I get it, and 7 months ago, I thought the same thing. But, now I kind of feel differently.

Since I've been on this path and had time to do things I enjoy doing, that make a difference in my life (and others), I have met so many people who are so supportive and interested in my career. Just in the last week, I can recall 3 people telling me when I get my business started, to call them. And one of them has told me to give them a call and let them know if there is anything they can do to help out. This particular person only knows me through a volunteer opportunity, and I was pleasantly surprised at her warm reception and heart-felt offer to help me in my next step.

It's things like that that give me more strength in knowing I am on the right path. It's things like going to Arbor Day and striking up a conversation with one of the people who works at the Burden Center about my previous career and background in Forestry. And further down the interaction having him ask me about joining their Advisory Board to help them start a big project restoring a wetland area on their property. But even a step further, I let him know that I am making a career transition and that I am going into the healing arts-massage therapy specifically. He then brought up the 'event at the Burden center with yoga, and stuff like that' where I interjected and said, World Peace Day? Yeah, I was here, I volunteered and offered Reiki at the event. That part of the conversation led him to share with me about a person who recently completed their PhD at LSU with something regarding the healing arts. I looked up her name and turns out her dissertation had to do with Reiki and mental health professionals. He told me before I left I should get in touch with her.

For about a month, I've been having that feeling again. That feeling that my spirit is on the major cusp of something. That feeling where if I don't reign it in, would make me stir crazy, wondering what the next step will be. But, thankfully, most moments I can keep myself present and accept and embody that everything I need to know will be revealed to me in the perfect time-space sequence. That includes all the souls I am to meet, all the opportunities I am to be afforded. I had the pleasure of attending my Healer's Circle the other night where I shared with them how I am holding patiently allowing the signs to come my way--my fellow healer's smiled and acknowledged my effort.

I am exactly where I need to be. Souls and opportunities come into my life as I am ready. I open myself to receive all gifts and allow myself to give unconditionally.

Place where there are no words

I run a successful massage therapy practice. I help people heal. All my wildest dreams are coming true. My blessings are many, my fears are few. I shed that which no longer serves me as I embrace all that is new. All this comes from a place deep within me, a place for which I have no words. These words before me could not possibly begin to paint a picture of that which is overflowing in my heart, spirit, and soul. This place for which no words exist is available to all of us. What message does this place of silence have for you?

Lessons in Healing

As I took off on my new path toward the healing arts, I started practicing Reiki daily. About 5 days into my new "daily" practice, I met the spirit that would be come my new Reiki Teacher. I met her in mid-April, I'd say. She told me of a Level II attunement she'd be holding at the end of May and offered for me to join. I knew if I wanted to join, I would need to continue with the daily practice I had sought out on and continued practicing - mostly on myself, but sometimes on Syd and Lyd.

So, throughout the foot process, I have been practicing Reiki daily -- prior to surgery, following surgery, prior to the stitches being removed ... you get the picture. Having the stitches removed envoked a terrbile burning, pulling, stretching sensation. The nurse started at the bottom of my wound and worked her way toward the top; being patient with me along the way. As we got to the middle of the wound, there was a particularly painful stitch. I asked the nurse to move up the toe and come back for that one later after she tried it twice to no avail (and plenty of pain). As she moved on to the subsequent stitches, I kept deep breathing, praying and saying to myself, (outloud, no less) “It will be over in a few seconds, It will be over in a few seconds”… Instead of really feeling through the pain and the experience, I was wishing it away…

Only I would not know this until several days later.

One night, following the stitches removal, I was practicing Reiki on myself as I drifted off to sleep (such is a normal occurrence for me). In a moment of intuition, I decided to allow any leftover pain in my foot leave me. No sooner was the intention completed, I felt this burning sensation by my big toe knuckle – the same painful sensation I’d had during the removal of the “worst” stitch. The burning felt much like it did that day; it was almost like I was reliving it. I worked through it (it even made me break a sweat) and eventually drifted off to sleep. I didn’t think too much about it until I was with my Reiki Teacher on the day of my Level II attunement.

On the day of the attunement, I showed up early (or, on time, as it were) and was blessed with time to download with my Reiki Teacher – sharing with her about my surgery, the pain, etc., and how I felt about some of the different aspects of my healing process. I told her about the pain I experienced when the stitches were removed and how the nurse was very patient with me. I also shared with her my decision to let go of the pain in the foot during a self Reiki session and told her how it was like I was reliving the experience. (ps.. I'd never opened myself up to this type of healing before, it was a Divine instinct to even try it) She acknowledged my experience and shared a couple insights with me.

First she spoke of really feeling the pain. This immediately grabbed my attention – when the stitches were removed, I was so worried about controlling my emotions and not crying (yes, crying), I didn’t really feel the pain… When I “relived” the pain, I actually felt through it (all of it) and I was able to let it go.

Then my Teacher told me about how one can have a relationship with the pain – such as what can I learn from the pain/experience or what does the pain have to tell me?

Since the removal of the stitches, the eventual healing experience, and the subsequent conversation with my Reiki Teacher, I have had appointments that challenged my nerves, patience, ability to stay present in the moment, and willingness to feel any "pain" that may erupt. And I have to say, I am pretty proud of what I’ve learned about myself and how far I’ve come.

I am an emotional being. That may never change. And I am not going to change that about myself to “fit in” or to not make someone else uncomfortable (e.g., nurse, doctor, practitioner). The experience is my soul's experience – to be experienced how no other soul would. And I've decided I am no longer going to censor myself or my emotions for the sake of things of the ego (embarrassment, pride, to name two) or to presumably ensure someone else's comfort. My feelings and emotions deserve expression just the same as the next person’s.

It is my intention that people who Enter My Room will be able to express themselves; that I may create a safe space for them to be and to possibly even heal.

Archangel Raphael has been so wonderful to come to my side each time I have asked him to (my freewill) throughout this journey. I haven't had a consistent relationship with him for many years, but the last 6 months of my life have been so rich, rewarding and healing with him by my side. Again, I know I am on the right path - a path full of lessons in (and opportunities for) healing.

Namaste’,
Shanna

What's in a book?

For some reason, months ago, I started recording Season 25: Oprah Behind the Scenes. I am not even sure why I started DVR’ing it; and it did not become apparent until four days ago… The episodes I happened to DVR have enlightened my journey. I have had a few glimpses of the pathways I will use to offer healing touch therapies to the Greater Baton Rouge community, but the bar continues to rise; the ideas continue to flood in. And, at this part in the process, I am grateful for Oprah’s shows because she has inspired me to raise the bar and take in new information in order to truly envision and prepare for all that is before me.

In my previous blog, I mentioned Dr. Jill Bolte Taylor; I found out about her on Oprah.com’s Soul Series webcasts. At first I was intrigued just reading the story about the lady and her stroke and what the symptoms were… And then I came to the part where she discussed the attitude and energy of her nurses and caretakers. She discussed how important it was to her to be surrounded with positive individuals who offered presence and sympathy while she was healing; she was convinced it was an integral part of her ability to heal.

In the webcast, she briefly introduced why she decided to become a brain scientist and what she had to go through to contact someone to help her (she couldn’t dial 911) and I was hooked. Of course as I continued to read the transcript of the webcast, I learned of her book, My Stroke of Insight – A Brain Scientist’s Personal Journey, and I instantly wanted to read it.

At times, I am not sure why I am drawn to a book, but sometimes it just happens. And of course, sometimes I think I’m reading a book for this reason, or that, but ultimately it ends up being a completely different reason. For this book, I am interested in the technical information contained in it (put into a layperson’s language) but also because she speaks of the serenely right-brained experience she had when she had her stroke – a supremely spiritual experience that allowed her to be and exist. I received the book a couple days ago (I borrowed it from the library) and started reading it that night. The information on the front of the book cover alludes to the fact that she is going to share with us how to live in the right-brained experience without having to endure a stroke like she did – I hope it “delivers”. Cheers!

Recounting the Day of Foot Surgery

The morning of the surgery, I was set to wake up at 4:30am to have some toast, jelly, and water. Only, around 4:10am, I woke up and had to rush to the bathroom. When I got to the other side of the house, I was faint, weak, and started hearing the tunnel closing in on me. I hollered to Lydia and asked her to come help me and bring me a cool cloth, etc. I was eventually able to get through the faint feelings and have a little food and fall back asleep to try to shorten the food-deprived day ahead of me.

Fast forward to around noon; I was starving, tired, nervous, and just really wanted to put this all behind me. When we finally go to the back and talk with the nurse who was going to put in my IV, the nerves really started kicking in. Leading up to this day, of course I was nervous, anxious, didn’t know what to expect. The nurse who put in my IV couldn’t have said it better, “We all feel this way when things are beyond our control.” At the time, I did not realize it, but that it exactly what a good chunk of the anxiety was about on the day of the surgery. I knew deep in me everything’d be okay; I prayed for Divine guidance for the doctors, nurses, me, Lydia, I trusted it was all going to be better in the end. But the process was still nerve-wracking. That nurse, Crystal, was very caring and let me have my process and work through it, while being kind and compassionate at the same time. I remember wishing and wanting after Izzo’s Illegal Burrito nachos. I kept telling Lydia that’s what I wanted to eat for dinner.

The person who put the betadine/iodine on my leg and foot and wrapped it up was rather mechanical/technical and came in to the room, did her task, and left.

Laurie, the nurse that would be with me during the surgery and the nurse anesthesiologist, Jodie, were kind and gentle with me. They introduced themselves and were friendly but factual. After they got done asking questions and telling me stuff, they asked me if I had any questions, and I, jokingly, said, “When can I eat???” They didn’t get it, but Lydia did, and for me, I decided I’d make humor out of it instead of crying…

As I was rolled to the operating room, my teeth were chattering and I had a thin blanket and sheet on top of me. I was very nervous about the IV in my left hand even though it finally wasn’t stinging anymore. When it was time to move from my gurney to the operating table (thank goodness they had a sheet on the stainless steel table), nurse Laurie asked me to move over, and I was almost paralyzed with the thought of trying to use my left hand to get onto the table; she reassured me the needle was out of the IV and it wouldn’t hurt, so I trusted her and moved over. Then she came back with another warm blanket and peeled back the other covers I had and placed it closest to my gown-covered ffrigid body, then added the others back.

The next thing I remember Jodie was at my head and told me she’d be at my head during the entire surgery monitoring me. She said she’d be putting a tube down my throat and it might be a little sore following surgery, then she told me she’d given me something to help relax me, and did I feel it – needless to say, that was the last thing I remember from the operating room.

When I “came to”, I was in a big room with lots of curtains in it; the nurse Traci that was with me was kind of mechanical, bored, and seemed to be short with me. Of course, I was still “out of it”, so my perception may be a little off, but I tend to trust my gut and intuition and it seemed to me she was “just doing her job”… I remember early on having a horrible itch in the middle of my splint mid-way down my leg and asking her, “Do you have a pencil or something I can use to itch it??” She was very matter of fact with me and told me I couldn’t stick anything down my splint, which was totally okay. I remember asking her a lot of questions and she just kept giving me answers, and at some point, I remember acknowledging this fact and she actually said some patients ask more questions than I was asking.

As I laid there a few more minutes, Traci asked me if I wanted a nerve block. I remembered Ang telling me about this earlier, and I told the nurse I would do whatever she recommended. As I talked with her, in my anesthesia-induced state, I found out from her that I’d need less pain medication if I took the nerve block. So I decided to do it. Next thing I remember, there was a guy at my left leg poking around. I asked him what his name was, because he did not introduce himself to me at all. He said his name was Dr. Chapman. He poked around on the back side of my knee for a little bit (it hurt, I am not going to lie), and then when he found some specific nerve or something, he started banging on the bottom of my left foot with his left hand; I guess seeing if it was the right nerve, or seeing if I could still feel it, I am not sure. Just as swiftly as he was there, he was gone.

Then Lydia joined me. I was so glad to see her and the thoughts of nachos were so far gone from my mind. I was slurping down apple juice and trying to stay awake; a technician came and said she’d pick up my prescriptions if we wanted her to. The pain was pretty bad and a new nurse gave me some Tylox with my saltine crackers and apple juice. Before I knew it, I was being wheeled to the outside of the building and loaded into the back of the Venza. We ordered sweet potatoes and rolls from Texas Roadhouse and drove over to pick them up; I was feeling rather nauseous at this point. I had the window down and was trying to bite back the sensation. Finally, we arrived home; Lydia gave me my crutches and I emerged from the car; and almost immediately, I was really nauseous again. This time I knew I wasn’t going to be able to contain it. We managed to find a bucket outside in the carport and … I’ll spare you the details. Needless to say, I felt better after that. I was hungry for dinner (we had A1 Beef Roast I’d made in the crockpot the day before, garden-fresh green beans lightly steamed, and sweet potatoes) and the rest of the night is quite a blur.

While part of the aim of this post is to recount the day of my surgery, part of it is also to showcase how I feel about those in the healthcare/wellness field. What I really want to say is – your patients know when you’re checked-out and when you’re checked-in; they know if you are in there doing things mechanically; they know if you’re emitting healing, life-affirming energy or if you’re just there.

The energy of the nurses, doctor, and other personnel mattered. It absolutely mattered. There were nurses that I encountered on the surgery day who were just there, mechanical, looking at machines, numbers, paperwork; not even concerned there was a warm body in the room. Then there were nurses, anesthesiologists, etc., that acknowledged me (and my fears) and had compassion and empathy for where I was at the moment they were with me.

I read this on Oprah.com about a brain scientist who had a stroke and said this of her recovery process:
Jill says she could feel the energy of the people who walked in her room and could even tell which nurses made her feel safe. The nurses who would make a connection with her, simply by making eye contact or touching her foot, made all the difference. "As opposed to someone who just comes in, deals with the machinery, ignores that there's even a warm body in the bed," she says. "I didn't feel safe in that person's care." ~Dr. Jill Bolte Taylor, brain scientist

When I read this passage, I instantly connected to it. I felt the same way about my surgery – I remember telling Lydia about the nurses who were nice and those who were just rather mechanical, checked-out, etc. – and I remember thinking at the time it was occurring: “Why are these people in this vocation if they have no bedside manner?” The idealist part of me has these thoughts. The logical side (and spiritual side) of me knows that the answer to that question is in the question – it’s not their vocation, their calling – it’s just what they do.

This whole process, this process of injuring my foot, living with pain for months, coming to the point of pre-surgery, getting through the surgery, and now truly on the other side of this process has changed me. Although I’d already decided to change my life and follow my calling, this “curve ball” has pushed me even further toward having the time to really determine what my calling is. And I know it may ultimately change/metamorphosize as I continue through my journey, I know that right now I am on the right path. I am called to help others facilitate healing within their own body, mind, and spirit. This foot journey has been a significant part of me accepting this.

Do you see me?

“Children are looking at what do you mean, what do you feel … does your face light up, do they know you’re really there?” ~ Toni Morrison

Oprah takes Toni Morrison’s question to the next level: “Everybody is looking to see, ‘Do you see me, Do you see me?’”

Do you really see me?

I have had a couple opportunities to live the “Enter My Room” lesson since writing my last blog. Something that has happened to me of late since not being able to place weight on my left foot; since the crutches, but especially since getting my little knee walker. People talk to me out of the blue – people that may otherwise not see me, caught in their own little world. They ask me a lot about my knee walker, it seems to open up conversation and sometimes the conversation moves onto other things.

Case in point, Sunday Lydia and I were out and about at our favorite place to get our vegetable plants – Naylor’s Hardware. As we were making our second pass at things (we’d already checked out but had forgotten to get our soil and amendments [read : chicken poop]), this couple noticed my knee walker and started asking me about it. Shortly thereafter, an older gentleman approached me and asked what had happened and who had performed my surgery. I told him who it was and where they were located and shared with him my high regard for the way I’d been treated at the Center. Eventually we got off topic and he started telling me about Bowen Therapy (of which I’d never heard) and on down the line we started talking about alternative healing, vitamins and minerals, and complementary therapies. It was most unusual to experience this and to go “there” with a perfect stranger so quickly.

We talked for a good bit – maybe 30 minutes – we talked of where he lives, my formal education, etc., and eventually he asked me what I do. I told him I’d been an environmental consultant for 4 years following grad school but now I am moving toward broadening my knowledge and experience in the healing arts.

We eventually exchanged names and phone numbers. I will be honest, I did not know if I’d hear from this person again, I didn’t even know that I was going to use the phone number to contact him. He shared some of the books he had in his vehicle with me, Beating Cancer with Nutrition and another one whose title escapes me right now. As we began to wrap up the conversation, he told me something to the effect of meeting me and me being on a different plane than most people when it came to all of this stuff.

Lydia patiently stood by until our conversation closed. Although a couple times thoughts entered my mind such as –it’s hot outside (at one point in the conversation, he suggested we move into the shade), my Lydia must be bored to tears, etc., -- I was able to bring myself back rather easily to the room. Back to BEing; ensuring I was present for this gentleman and present for myself.

This gentleman entered my room for a reason. He entered my life and has blessed it already. He called me a couple times last night and the second time I answered the phone (I didn’t recognize the number). It was rather late at night for me, but I really enjoyed the conversation – and listening to him. He has a wealth of experience and knowledge and wants to share so much.

Although I am not sure why he has entered my room, I don’t have to know why. I just need to accept the blessing as it is. I feel quite sure that this soul sees me – sees me for who I am; even if I am not quite sure who that is. He is holding a space for my BEing and I need to reciprocate and give my attention, mind, and peace to him when he is in my room.

Enter my room, my face will light up...

Do you believe that an image is worth a thousand words? What about actions speak louder than words?

As I make a transition in my life; and face some of the decisions ahead of me, my views are constantly evolving. And my approach to life is ever-evolving as well. Everything that that happens “to” us happens for a reason. When I heard Toni Morrison speak the words, “When a kid walks into a room, does your face light up?” it made me pause for a moment, rewind the DVR, and listen again.

When someone enters the room, or leaves the room; what do I do? Do I stop what I’m doing and pay heed? Or do I barely acknowledge their entrance entranced in what I am doing? When someone bares their heart to me, do I listen to them – and acknowledge them actively? Or do I somewhat, half-heartedly listen all the while lining up what I will next say??

This I know… my actions toward the people who have entered my room have spoken volumes. Without a single spoken word, the kids have known how I felt about them, the friends have known whether I cared, the loved ones knew I was rooting for them or whether I was somewhere else in my mind. I want my face to light up when someone joins me in my room. I want the people in my life to know I care; not by what I say, but by what I do.

There was a period in my life when every evening my partner came home, or I (finally) made it home, we’d kiss and give a hug. Before rolling over and crashing out each night, I’d tell her I loved her; I am not sure how she felt about my “ritual”. But, I think it is so important to acknowledge my spouse when she comes home from a long day’s work and to come together before we sleep at night and share our love. Not to say those three words: I. love. you.; but to take pause, connect and acknowledge our relationship and our love; to act on the love we share.

From this point forward, I will be especially mindful when people, to include children, “enter the room”. And when they leave, and when they cry, and when they laugh; I will be present and connect with them. It's essential that I learn this lesson and embrace this oppotunity for growth. One of the most self-honoring things I have ever done was leave a career that did not lend itself to living, and I am grateful. For now I have time, space, and perspective to realize how important it is to relish in the small things in life, be present, to pause and take time, to be grateful and show my gratitude as people enter my room.