Telepathic Teddy Bear - My Body's a Question

No, there's no answer. That's the point. I thought my body was a riddle, or an enigma, or at least very very confused. But then I heard this song, and my perception changed. It's a question, without an answer, and that makes it ok to stop looking for the answer that does not exist.

I ran across this song several months ago. My cousins were promoting their friend's new album - Reflections, by Telepathic Teddy Bear.  I listened, and listened, and listened, and for months now, this song keeps popping into my head. The whole album is great, but this one, well...

http://telepathicteddybear.bandcamp.com/track/my-bodys-a-question

I somehow don't think the composer ever intended it to be interpreted as I do, but that is the beauty of art. The artist puts something forth, and meaning is created somewhere in between the output and the reception in the back and forth between artist and audience. I don't know much about the composer, except that he is originally from Mexico, and I can assume safely that he is in his early 30's. I have no idea what challenges he has faced in his life that have brought him to the point of writing poignant music, but it doesn't matter so much, because art transcends personal experience and becomes something that speaks to the shared human experience. This song does speak to me, and it speaks of my own struggles to let go of my deep desire for control and ultimately, answers.

Change and the Physiological Response

Oh. My. God! I just got it. I wrote the title to this, and I got it. See, this is why I blog! Wow.

I was about to write that my dear friend, Maggie, who sometimes comments on my posts, came over last night, and we both being so intrigued by life, brains, and personal growth, got to talking about my brain and symptoms, and those of someone close to her with a mental health issue, and how they compare (a lot of them are frighteningly similar). Then I wrote "Change and the Physiological Response" and I flashed to this morning, and my involvement with the Montessori Canadian centenary celebration, and my involvement with people in general, and my distinct need to cocoon, especially when flaring. It all makes sense now.

Ok, let me go back a bit. Before I went into a state of extreme healing, I had some resistance to change, as we all do. However, I was also incredibly spontaneous, and made a real effort through most of my adult life to let go of that, and I was quite successful - you have to be to a) live with my family, and b) work in a Montessori setting. No option. At all. But since I've been home, I've been getting this really strong reaction to the slightest unexpected situations. I know how it comes off - it comes off as me being cranky and stubborn. But it's not - it's an actual physiological response.

Medical Check-in

I've noticed that I'm writing a lot less lately, and mostly it's because I don't have much to say. I wonder if that means I am coming to terms with the way my life is going, or if maybe I've said so much already. Maybe it's a sign that my brain is settling down a bit, and I'm not having quite so many internal conversations that I need to get out so I can relax and rest. That would mean my anxiety levels are down, which is very true.

In any case, today I do have something to say, and it is all good news - at least for someone seeking answers and guidance. It always amuses me that those of us who have these mysterious health issues get so excited when our test results actually show something concretely negative. It's cause for celebration. We tend to feel the same way when we finally get a diagnosis, often after years of trying to get one. It is validating, and it is a relief to know that somebody has some sort of clue about what is going on in our bodies.

So good.

The other day, I woke up feeling... ok... and it was so... weird!

Last week was a little bit difficult, quite trippy, and very much a time for turtling. My Osteopath, bless her soul, has started to work on my brain. When I saw Dr. Nathan in California, he had mentioned the blood flow to my brain causing swelling of some sort likely being an issue, and that there was a possibility that the Osteopath would be able to do something about it. If she could not (and he did say then and there that he is not able to do it himself through osteopathic treatment), he could do it using a big fancy SPECT machine.

At the end of our last session, she said that she had started working on it. Apparently, there is torsion (quite literally - a twisting compression) in my brain stem, occipital lobe and part of my temporal lobe, which has been there for a very long time. This explains so very very much. I mean really! The brain stem is responsible for heart rate, blood pressure, breathing, and so forth. It also has to do with motor control and sensory analysis, and - oh, get this! - sleep and levels of consciousness. Hmmmm. The occipital lobe is all about visual processing, and the temporal lobe  - well - it is responsible for hearing, memory, meaning, and language, plays a role in emotion and learning, and interpreting and processing auditory stimuli. Yeah. Explain some of my symptoms much?

Graduations

This time of year is always emotional at every school. I, being an emotional kind of person, have always wanted to make the most of it, and help my students see how moments like these, of endings, beginnings and in-between moments are so very ripe with opportunity for growth and self-exploration. But this year I have no students. So I guess I'll have to do it for myself.

The 4 boys who started the Middle School adventure with me are, however, on their way out of our cocoon of a school, and about to learn how to fly.  My son is moving from the Lower Elementary to the Upper Elementary, and my nephew is moving from the Casa to the Lower El. I may have no students, but I still have plenty of transitions to feel my way through.

The furthest from my daily life are the Middle School boys. At this point, it has been one and a half years since I was their teacher. And yet. And yet I've been involved in every major decision, and several smaller ones regarding their education during that time. I've been apprised of their progress, and kept abreast of their development. I still feel a very strong emotional attachment, and I probably always will. One of the things which makes a Montessori Middle School, and especially ours, unique is the intense focus we place on two things: self-reflection for both students and teachers, and the mentoring relationship. When these are in place, a bond will develop. And since I am personally so intensely self-reflective anyway, and so highly empathetic, it should come as no surprise to anyone that I formed very deep bonds with these students, even though I had them to myself for only a few months. I was their music teacher for several years before that, and music, when taught Andy-style, well, yeah, it tended to lean towards self-expression and (dare I say it?) self-reflection, so over the years they came to trust me, and when we opened the Middle School, we were ready to open our hearts.

Overly Sensitized Day

I am having a rough day today. And the last little while, I've been feeling rather resilient, so I'm hoping this does not last.

Last weekend was crazy busy for a healthy person, never mind me, and yet, I managed to get enough rest periods in there, and had a really good week, too. It was pretty productive, and restful and peaceful, and I felt really good, about what I did and didn't do. I made huge strides in terms of my sensitivity towards other people's feelings, and was able to tune into my own when I needed to. Very cool stuff. I spent the week in a very balanced way, and it was gooood.

It's even cooler, because there were emotionally critical situations both at school, in my online community, and in my support group this week. I managed to not take ownership of them, though, and keep focused on how to help others while still helping myself and not overextending. All the energy I previously would have directed to trying to fix it all and to keep anybody from feeling any pain was instead able to go into healing, which is exactly where I need it.

But yesterday, the weather in Toronto went crazy. It's as if it saved up all the rain that we did not get all through spring so far, and threw it all at us in one big huge stormy go. Traffic lights were out, there was quite a bit of flooding, and the roads were slippery and the wind was really strong.

So of course, I went for a nice loooong drive!

Outed

I have been very fortunate as a person dealing with chronic illness, and especially ME. I know that there are gazillions of people out there who don't believe ME is real, who think it's all in our heads etc. etc. etc. But luckily, I have had to deal with very few of those. Of course, those were all health care professionals, so I'm not sure what that says... but still.

The vast majority of people who know me, and know that I have ME, are very supportive and understanding. That's because not many people outside my immediate circles know. They know I'm sick but not with what. And that has just changed.

Since I got the diagnosis a year and half ago (holy cow time flies), I've not really cared who knew and who didn't, as I prefer living my life as openly as possible. But, because of privacy and political issues at the school where I was a teacher, and am now just a Mom, I kept it quiet, and politely explained to all who asked that I was not at liberty to discuss my actual diagnosis. But now things have changed.