Bellyache

Niagara Falls w:Skok

Have you ever had the experience of not realizing how much pain you are in until the pain is gone? Being accustomed to frequent pain, specifically back pain, I’ve had this experience a few times. We become so accustomed to pain, especially pain that sneaks up on us as a result of repetitive motion due to daily tasks that must be performed, that often times we don’t even realize we are in pain until the pain is gone. It’s an odd feeling to be without pain when you’ve experienced it consistently for such a long time.

I’m in my late thirties now so I’ve lived a little bit of life. This past week, I packed up all the belongings I could fit in my car, as well as my dog and my sister (who selflessly joined me for the road trip) and drove 3,200 miles, from Northern California to Buffalo, NY (we had a few detours due to weather and wanting to visit family along the way). For most people, this would be acceptable if I were moving for work or something similarly logical. I have moved for work reasons in the past but this time I moved for love. So cheesy, I know, and, I’ll give it to you, kind of crazy as well. Especially since we have only known each other for a year, so not long in the scheme of things, been dating for 4 months and had spent less than 20 (not even full) days together in real life before I moved.

The morning, for me, has always been the time of day when I’m the most honest with myself. When first waking up, honesty is really the only option. It pounces on me without permission, forcing me to look at decisions I’ve made and the true impact they have on me and the people around me.

Since day one of starting to spend time with my beau as something more romantic than friendly, I wake up every morning at peace. This is not a caught-up-in-the-moment, head-over-heels kind of feeling. It is pure peace. With that peaceful feeling came some confusion. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it at first but, after awhile, I realized what was missing; a pit in my stomach. In the past, I had never experienced a romantic relationship without some kind of feeling that it wasn’t right. Always waking up in the morning with that tell tale knot in my stomach and then shoving it down and explaining it away to myself, “It’s just me . . . it’ll get better in time. . .  everyone feels this way . . .” It hasn’t been until now, until that ill feeling has been completely absent, that I am able to see how wrong I was. That feeling may be normal but it doesn’t exist when things are right. When you’ve truly found your person, your whole body is at peace even in those very first, uninhibited moments waking up. Even with knowing that I would be moving across the country, far from family and friends, that feeling of discontentment has never crept up on me upon first waking. I can’t help but, out of habit and past experience, wait for the other shoe to drop but, it seems, sometimes things are just right and it’s okay to accept the peace that comes with pain no longer being present.

Me, as a Seed

poppy pic lolo

          If I were a seed I’d, at first, be part of a plant. Depending on the plant, my own process for becoming a plant could involve a number of different adventures. For instance, the wind could blow me loose and I’d soar through the air. Maybe soaring low, maybe soaring high, until I landed on soil.
          Or maybe I’d land on a bird, or a ground dwelling animal, that would carry me even further. Foxes are cute and clever. I’d like to take a ride on a fox.
          Or maybe an animal would walk by, brushing the plant I’m currently a part of, I’d attach to its fur and I’d travel that way; by deer or by jack rabbit.
          Maybe heavy rains would wash me away from my parent plant and I’d travel by small stream until the stream gave way to creek or river or merely to saturated soil.
          Or maybe I simply fall from my parent plant, landing not too far away, as they stand over me or as they wither back into the soil.
          Once resting, I’d wait.
          I’d wait for the right amount of moisture to soften my protective outer shell. I’d wait for the right conditions, the right temperature. Worry can not touch me. My intuition guides me in every moment, especially the most important ones. Without doubt or even questions, I’d begin to let go, to open up, to embrace allowing my insides to bring forth a gift from the divine. What I become has always lived inside of me. With the right amount of sunshine, I’d burst forth on to the already magical scene, adding my own special, undeniable touch.
          I’ve been here all along, it’s true. But, in my intended and inevitable earthly form, I and the world around me are more aware of my presence than ever. All of nature embraces me, Life embraces me, I embrace me.
          I might provide sustenance. I might provide joy through my beauty. I might provide shade and protection through my leaves. I will most certainly just be. Just being is the thing.
          And I’ll grow seeds of my own that will fall, hitch a ride, ride a wave or just wander away to their own destiny. They are me, and I am them, in this endless, beautiful wave of existence.