The Song In My Bones (Dealing With Pain)

There is a Wisdom,
Buried deep in my bones,
A Gift,
Passed down to me,
From Ancestors of Old.

Today we call it a curse,
And fight and rail,
We give it names,
Arthritis and Migraine,
And call the wild Wisdom,
By another name: Pain.

But, is it, really,
Just the song my bones knows?

5,000 years ago…

…I would have been honored amongst my Tribe. I would have warned my People four hours ago that a change in the weather was coming, something I knew because I felt the change coming in my ears, my head. We would have had time to take shelter before the raging winds arrived, as they have now.

…I would be warning my Tribe now that an even bigger change was coming. I feel it, in my bones – in the bad knee and shoulder that suddenly twinge, and the deep ache in my bones growing sharper by the moment.

My bones know. They are singing to me, singing of the changes to come.

Tomorrow, the temperature here will drop from 35 degrees to something-below-zero, with wind chills of -30 degrees.

My bones are telling me that, a Gift that could have meant the life or death of my Tribe.

I can tell you when rain is within 50 miles and headed this way, whatever the season, by the pang in my shoulder. There was a time when that would have been very useful.

Now, I have no need of this life-saving Gift. Who does? We have the Weather Channel, and weather apps on our fones.

But maybe, it’s time I stopped complaining about the “pain” of my “reactive inflammatory arthritis” and “weather migraines,” and started thanking my body for giving me the warnings it was meant to give me.

It is only my body singing to me with ancient Wisdom.

Maybe, it’s time I started just listening, just being with the sensations, without labeling them as “pain,” and instead, think about what they would have meant a thousand, or five thousand, years ago.

Survival. Life. Or, death.

Maybe, it’s time I stopped running away, and just lay still, curled up, and listened to the Wisdom buried deep in my body.

I think it has a lot to say.

I wrote that last night, but then didn’t post it.
I was too busy, listening to my bones sing.

There is a craft to this, the listening, one I’m sure our ancient ancestors refined. Just as I know the approach of rain by my very reliable shoulder, what exactly was the singing in my ribs, my bad knee, then most of my bones, even into my hands, telling me last night? If I had no weather app on my fone, I would need to know.

Waking far too early this morning, writhing from the ache in my bones, with pressure in my head, I knew the temperature was soon to start its drop and more change was coming. I could hear the wind roaring outside. When I got up, I discovered that yesterday’s mild south winds, that had changed to west winds last night, were now hard and gusting even harder from the north.

My mind flashed back to reading about the “polar vortex” and coming “arctic plunge,” with temperatures so low that “if you are younger than 40 you likely won’t remember anything this cold.” I put that out of mind.

Why stay awake and thrash and fight the “pain,” when it is only my bones singing to me, with the ancient Wisdom, as the bodies of some have done for countless generations before me?

Instead, I thanked my wonderous body for the warning, and told it that I understood why my bones were singing, the Wisdom it was sharing with me.

Muscles relaxed instead of spasmed.
The song became a lullabye.
And then, I went peacefully back to sleep.

It will take time to break long-engrained habits – the tightening of muscles around the signals my body is sending, the labeling of those signals always as “pain,” fighting and avoiding them, causing my body to only send them out louder and stronger, more urgently. But, it’s a start.

I’ve wondered before if weather-related migraines were an evolutionary advantage – if a small proportion of members of a tribe had them, they would have been, I think.

But, I never tried to consciously work with my body, to acknowledge that its messages were received, other than to say, “yeah, that part hurts, I understand, you can shut up about it now.” The flare of inflammatory arthritis I’ve been having has given me a new incentive to work on how I deal with “pain,” and acknowledging it while in deep relaxation does help – to a point.

Maybe, only “to a point” because I wasn’t acknowledging the whole message.

Yes, my wise body, I hear the song in my bones now, and I understand. You’re right, a big change in the weather is coming, a dangerous one. Thank you for warning me. I am safe, warm, and protected – and listening.

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Coping: One Breath, One Moment

A post about getting through those moments you ask yourself: “What fresh hell is this?”, or beg, “Not again, please!” and, “When Food Is The Enemy”

Recently, yesterday I guess it was, but it seems eons ago, I managed to poison myself.

Not in the typical, swallow something toxic way, of course.

No, not me.

My poison?

A bowl of oatmeal. A stupid bowl of gluten-free oatmeal. A big bowl of oatmeal.

I knew almost immediately that I had made a serious error, as it first sat in my stomach like a brick, and then, the bloating and the pain and the overall “oh, crap, what fresh hell is this?” feeling came over me.

Like many with ME/CFS and Fibromyalgia, I have Leaky Gut Syndrome, which in some patients is labeled as only IBS – (Irritable Bowel Syndrome). I’ve got both labels, but today’s topic is Leaky Gut.

What that means, in very general terms, is that my intestines are far more permeable than they should be. Particles from foods I eat can enter my blood stream, and my body becomes hyper-sensitive to them. The more frequently I eat something, the more common reactions become.

For a more expanded discussion of this, see this post:
The Problem, The Plan, via Dr Z

I have quite a large number of items on “The List” of things I simply can’t eat. Oatmeal used to be on The List, but after avoiding it for a number of months, and then trying it again, it seemed to be okay.

Until yesterday. When suddenly it was not okay, and I have been enduring the misery of severe bloating (as in, looking 6 to 8 months pregnant), belly cramping, nausea, migraines, and an overwhelming toxic feeling ever since.

It is hard to define what it is to feel “toxic,” but in general, like you’ve been poisoned. Very weak, difficulty thinking, palpitations, nausea/vomiting, extreme migraines, on & on.

Note: To the family members of ME/CFS patients, I would just like to add: this, this horrifying misery, is why we don’t get excited about going out to dinner (if we’re able), or trying new foods. The tiniest bit of an offending food can lead to misery that lasts days – long after you’ve gone home.

So, what’s to be done when you’ve poisoned yourself with food?

Not much. Take a hefty dose of magnesium, which acts as a laxative, to move it along as fast as possible.

As long as it’s in your body, it’s going to be setting off your symptoms. So you need it out of there – and fast!

But mostly, you have to wait it out.

If your doctor (likely an alternative practitioner or LLMD) has indoctrinated you into the Gerson Therapy (the infamous coffee enemas), they can certainly help both move things along, as well as detox your blood.

Substituting chamomile for coffee, as explained in The Gerson Therapy, helps to calm intestinal spasms. You can also mix coffee and chamomile. Experience tells me that a slightly overly warm brew will produce better, umm, results.

For info on my own experience with the Gerson Therapy, you can see all posts tagged “Gerson,” starting with The Problem, The Plan, via Dr Z.

Breath by Breath. Moment by moment.

I wrote this to my mother earlier tonight, after two days spent complaining of being too nauseated to eat, and how awful I feel:

“Can’t think of much else right now except get through this moment, this minute, this misery. Its a thing my very ill friend, S., and I say. Just focus on this moment. Don’t think about how long the misery will last. Just get thru this one moment at a time.

“It’s how we keep from becoming another ME/CFS suicide statistic. If you think, “it will never be any better than this,” or, “this is gonna last forever,” or “I’ll never be any better than this,” or, “what’s the point, this is just gonna happen again & again,” that is the path to becoming a statistic.

“So when our heads are pounding, are bellies are churning, the pain is just so much we want to crawl right out of our skins, we say to each other, “Just get thru this moment. This one breath. Don’t think about the moments to come. Just this one moment.”

“And that is all I can do right now.”

I am very happy to report:
After my second round of coffee & chamomile today, the offending oatmeal has been well & truly expelled. I feel better already, although it will take a few days to get back to “my normal.”

Always remember: You can get through it. One breath, one moment, at a time. Just take a big deep breath… and let it go. See the pain/misery/illness/despair flow out with it. And then just take one more big breath…

Forgotten Dreams & Finding Myself Again


“Art enables us to find ourselves and lose ourselves at the same time.”
― Thomas Merton, “No Man Is an Island”

Recently, I’ve come to realize (again) just how much being chronically ill has stolen from me, and not just in the obvious physical sense.

Little bits & pieces of me, of who I am, have been slowly slipping away into the morass of living with ME/CFS/Lyme, etc., buried under the avalanche of chronic illness, a little bit (or occasionally a lot) at a time, as I slowly spiral downward.

And then I found myself again, all the little missing bits, in the most unlikely of places.

The loss of physical function, of ability, is the easy part to see.

I can no longer ride horses, garden beyond a few pots on the deck & my beloved bonsai, or even make a trip to the grocery store without seriously overtaxing my body. Those long hikes in the Woods are long gone.

Less obvious to those on the outside looking in are the loss of the ability to watch TV or movies because of sound & light sensitivity & the damned migraines. I had have my favorite sci-fi & fantasy shows & movies, and I miss them, though they wait patiently for me on the DVR.

Perhaps most of all, I miss the ability to inhale a good novel, to luxuriate in a fantasy world of warrior women, magic, and quests to be fulfilled, or to travel backward into history & relive the ancient past. I used to read upwards of 150 pages a night of a good book, but I lost the ability to retain what I read, and so keep track of plotlines and characters, about 10 years ago.

But the Amazon warrior woman within, the myths & magic I love so much, reside within me still, I have found.

Rather than be pushed away into the fog and forgotten, they beg to be brought out into the open, acknowledged, and, even, nourished.

They are part of who I am.

Exploring more, I re-discovered the thrill of seeing a beautiful vista from a far-away land, a gorgeous garden, an amazing animal, an unusual and well done piece of art, and so much more.

And so I have found myself again, I have awoken from my soul’s slumber, thanks to that unlikely source I mentioned: Pinterest.

For those who don’t know, Pinterest is a highly addictive online “pinboard” site, where you can create pinboards – collections – of images of things you like, and keep them neatly arranged in as many boards as you like. You can “follow” people who share your interests, and browse their boards, and repin what you like to your own boards. Most of the pins lead to websites, often of interest, too.

To be honest, I joined Pinterest because I saw friends joining, and didn’t really expect much to use it.

But then I discovered the world of imagery that resides on the web, the treasure hunt that is Pinterest, finding people who like the same things I do, and began luxuriating in the glorious artwork & photography the way I used to do with my reading, tv and movie watching, and travel.

During a bad migraine day, of which there are many, I barely feel like moving, and thinking is terribly difficult. About the only thing I can do at such times is to immerse myself in the fantastic art & images of the divine, creative DIY ideas, magical homes, forests & sacred spaces, found on Pinterest, all while barely budging from my pillow, on my smartphone.

As I collect and categorize, I am both losing myself from the pain of the migraine & drudgery of another day of “chronic-ness”, and also finding myself, the parts so long buried & lost, hidden away. But still there.

Buried, but still alive & well inside my heart & soul.

It’s been six months of pinning now, and I’ve found it to be an interesting & invigorating process, both spiritually & emotionally.

Hidden anger & grief has risen to the surface to be dealt with, as I see things that remind me of The Before Times, of things I used to do, places I wanted to see, but now can’t.

I thought I was over that aspect of this illness we call ME/CFS, over the loss of so much that was a part of my identity.

But seeing some of these images, these visions of the Past and hopes for the Future, served as a reminder to me that grief is a process, a spiral, not a circle – we don’t go through the steps of the circle and be over it.

Instead, we go ’round and ’round the spiral of grief and anger, mourning the loss of Life-As-We-Knew-It, and with each turning of the spiral, the grief in our hearts heals a little more, slowly, ever so slowly, fading away…

As I’ve wandered the spiral of grieving for my life, I’ve found Pinterest to be invaluable in renewing my hope and fueling inspiration.

Creativity has budded, and begun to flower.

Images and how-to’s fill my Creativity board of things I know I can make and do, albeit very slowly. I can revisit and refine what inspires me, as new pins are found and pinned, and not-quite-right pins are removed. They remind me that:

I can still create. I can still make beautiful things.

Another board reminds me of my deep connection to Nature, and is populated with images of wild women and wild places, prompting the sleeping wildling within to awaken.

With every visit, the fires of inspiration burn brighter.

Once upon a time, I had my very own, very large, herb garden, with just about every herb, medicinal and culinary, you could have. But for now, we have the Woods, some pots on the deck, and dried herbs that can be purchased.

Pinterest has re-kindled my interest in using natural ways for healing. The internet is full of tons of information on using herbs & foods for healing, and my board is a great way to organize all that info – and encourage me to try it!


When things are very bad, physically, I can drop myself into the sacred imagery, fantasy art, especially lovely places, or beautiful wildwoods that populate my boards, and hide myself from the pain & distress. I can distract myself from the boredom of living a life filled with chronic pain & exhaustion by going treasure hunting – for new & wonderful things to pin.

It is a refuge, a respite, and a renewal, that I never expected, but am very thankful for.

To see my entire collection, please visit me on Pinterest ~ and if you’d like an invitation to join, just let me know (it’s free).