It is the thing I am adjusting to the most with my neck — it is slowly improving though I don’t sleep as well as I normally do which means, I don’t wake up as easily, nor as early, as I normally do. After a restless night with sleep interrupted by my neck calling out for attention every time I roll over, I have been waking up at least an hour later than my preferred 5am.

Which means, I often don’t have the morning time to meditate and write.

I tell myself — You have to make a choice.

What feeds my soul?

I know that when I take time to meditate, my day begins in balance and harmony. The same can be said for writing every morning.

They both feed my soul.

“Is it an all or nothing? Either/or?” my inner guide asks me.

Can I create an opportunity for this, AND, that?

Writing is a form of meditation for me.

Write less. But write, my inner guide whispers.

Heeding her voice, I place my fingers on the keyboard to find the words flowing out.

Sometimes, we must adapt. To adapt, we must accept what is and not bemoan what was or spend our time wishing and hoping it was something else.

To bemoan the lateness of my arising, to wish my neck didn’t hurt or wake me up during the night, would be to diminish what I find, right now, waiting for me in this moment. It would steal this joy of sitting at my keyboard, typing and allowing the words to flow without worry and resentment clouding my mind.

Embracing what is, I let go of wishing now was any way other than how it is. In the presence of what is, right now, I breathe deeply into being present to allow myself the grace of treasuring this moment right now and finding joy in every breath stirring the beginnings of my day.

And the words flow and my awareness of my power to create value and find myself in this moment, right now, awakens.

I am so blessed.

To create, to make a difference, I must turn up.

In my daughter Alexis’ blog post on the weekend, Yield, she talks about giving way to create space to keep turning up. 

A do or die thinker, I don’t yield well.

My brain tells me, you either are, or you are not, there is no in-between.

It also likes to tell me I’m a fraud, a failure, a no-show, when I yield.

I’m learning.

After two weeks of my neck not moving easily, it is finally beginning to give way, to yield its stiffness to allow me to turn my head without pain.

It is a relief.

And it is a learning opportunity. A chance to assess how well my ‘there are only two positions – Go or Stop’ thinking to see how well it has been working for me.

The answer is… you guessed it. Not that well.

The challenge with only two positions on the dial is, it leads to all or nothing thinking. In the land of black or white, pick one but you can’t have it all, I don’t give myself time or opportunity to be present without the pressure of having to do it all, give it all, make it all happen.

And so, I come back to the page, to the white screen, to this space of writing it out to find my way through to what is true and what is sometimes masquerading as truth to realize — how I do one thing is how I do all things.

My neck has been bothering me for quite awhile. And, in my normal fashion, I have ignored it in the hopes it will simply right itself.

It is. Righting itself. With a lot of help from those who know about righting stiff necks — and how to keep necks from getting stiff in the first place.

It is a learning eperience.

It’s about not ignoring the parts that hurt. About not forging on in spite of the pain. About not keeping going at it without stopping to ask it, what do I need to hear? What do I need to adjust so I can move on without pain? 

It’s about asking, How do I take care of you so that you will continue to be part of my body, my being present in this world, without being a pain in the neck?

The answer is: Take care of all of me.

It’s not just about the parts that hurt. They are simply manifestations of something deeper, something more profound.

Take care of all of me.

And so, I begin again. 

To take care. Of all of me.

  I had it all laid out. Begin the New Year with the commitment to spend 2 hours a day working on my book and to create one art journal page everyday.

I had booked the first week of January off work to lay the foundation of meeting my intention. My plan was to spend the week between Christmas and New Years re-organizing the chapters of my book and then this week creating the bridges between the three core areas. Most of the writing is completed. It’s the structure I’ve been struggling with, but, a coaching session over the phone with the amazing Elizabeth in Australia, and I had finally found clarity.

And then, January 1 happened.

Well actually, it began with the flu between Christmas and New Years and then January 1 happened.

Every year, I find a word that will be my guidepost for the year’s meditations, reflections and actions. In truth, it’s more a case of the word finding me. It rises up out of the mists of meditation and through contemplative journalling. In the past, the word has had more to do with me and my relationship with the world around me — Flow. AtOnement. Redemption. Rejoice. Surrender. They have all been words that found me and guided me over the years.

This year’s word was different. It is self-directed. An inner way of being that I don’t do very well.

Self-care.

When it first rose up, it appeared as Take Care. I knew it had the essence of what I needed to focus on this year, but it wasn’t quite sitting right. I created a journal page, did some contemplative writing on it but it still didn’t resonate as clearly as I knew it needed to become my word for the year. Until my neck went out of alignment on New Year’s Day that is, and the word got really, really clear. 

Self-care. 

I need to practice good self-care to create the life, and the world, I want to experience.

Not my forte. I tend to disregard the signs my body sends me that it is feeling under duress. I tend to push away intonations that my body is feeling tired, worn down or simply in need of a break.

Even though my brain likes to tell me I am invincible, or I can ‘get over it’, my body knows what I need. My body holds more wisdom than my thinking.

C.C. and I spent Saturday in the Emergency. I’d awoken in tears. Well, actually I didn’t really wake up as I hadn’t fallen asleep, my neck hurt so much.

He drove me to my chiropractor’s who is open on Saturday mornings only to discover that this year, his offices were closed over the holiday break for renovations.

I knew I couldn’t go back home without doing something about the pain, so C.C. drove me to the Sheldon Chumir Emergency Care Centre where I got amazing treatment. The staff were really supportive and couldn’t have been more responsive.

Then again, for someone who doesn’t cry in public, I sure did a lot of crying that morning and I think they may have taken pity on me!

C.C. had to phone and cancel our dinner guests that evening as I was not capable of entertaining anyone (Chalk one up to good self-care — I might have tried to power through it in the past.) When my beautiful friend Michelle heard of my plight, she offered up her services (she’s a massage therapist and acupuncturist). Yesterday, I found some relief and will continue on with treatment to ensure my neck has what it needs to heal.

As for my plans, well, they’re going to have to find a way to be content with waiting while I learn to practice good self-care.

A Poem For Christmas
©2015 Louise Gallagher

A canon
notes strung in perfect harmony
dancing on air
like pure white sheets
drying in the sun
a simple cavatina
joyfully proclaiming
the wonder that has begun
with this special time of year.

Piano keys felt
pads engaged
the key of life played
through a ligature
effortlessly joining
black and white/sharp and flat
a semitone on a half moving into full
heart-filled expression
cascading into
a cadenza of hope
playing together
a note
a tone
a song
of joy
of heaven on earth
where no key is measured
wanting
no note
left behind
without
a companion note
to play in harmony
to join in symphony.

Laughter pealing
each note a perfect intonation
of joy
exalting
a hymn without words
abandoning darkness
cascading from adagio to allegro
legato to staccato
making music
making magic
making love
happen
in flight
hearts joining in holy communion
around a note of pure, ecstatic joy.

This is Christmas.
This is Love.

I am inspired by the Christchild story. Inspired by the promise of the One who will come into our world and bring peace and joy to all mankind.

Yet, I grow impatient. Where is the love? Where is the peace? Where is the acceptance of one another. I grow impatient and wonder, what am I waiting for?

I read of wars and soldiers fallen upon fields of battle far from home. I read of drug lords gunning down innocent children and mother’s arms reaching out to capture their child’s body before it falls.

I hear of a father killing his children, a mother abandoning hers. I hear of a mother running away from danger, gathering her children to her breast as she knocks at a shelter door, praying they will have room for her tonight. I hear of children crying out for fear they will be left alone this Christmas. Of children calling out for someone to come and ease their pain and fear.

I hear of disease tearing lives apart, of drugs ripping into the hearts of families. Of intolerance pulling apart communities and fear of the unknown polarizing towns, pulling down politicians and pushing up our fear of each other as we take up arms to protect ourselves from our neighbours.

I hear of these things and want to call out, Let us wait no more.

Let us bring peace into our lives today. Right now. Right here.

Let us still the raging heart that would have us hate our neighbours. Let us quiet the angry voices that would have us kill each other. Let us stop picking up arms of destruction.

Let us reach out with arms of love.

Let us know peace.

Let us wait no longer.

Let us embrace the message of this child. Let us open our hearts and minds to embrace his message of love, peace and joy. He brings it to all mankind. Not just me or you. But to all of us.

Let us love one another. Care for each other. Let us bring peace to our world. This one world. One planet. One humankind.

Let us do it. Now.