getting rid of the poison

I wrote in my last post that I felt as though there were a poison inside of me, and some pretty intense and ugly feelings emanate from it for a couple of days each month. I began to notice a major difference in how I was feeling in February of this year — and the symptoms may have begun even earlier.

I’ve had some other challenging health news recently — and I have to admit, I’ve been a little fearful. I’ve heard from girlfriends my age battling breast cancer, following up a double mastectomy with a full hysterectomy to prevent their hormones from creating further havoc. My own mother had a hysterectomy in her thirties and breast cancer in her sixties. I want to see the benefits of the healthy lifestyle I lead. I want health naturally — without knives removing the very body parts that make me a woman.

With all this in mind, I saw my kinesiologist late last week. Sure enough, there is a poison — a toxic heavy metal — in my uterus. I am on an intense 12-day detox to release it from my system.

I have high hopes that, with the release of the toxin, the intensity of my monthly moods will subside, so that I can more steadily cultivate the gratitude and joy that I am able to experience much of the time. Remember, I vowed earlier this year to be love, abundance and sweetness, and I have to admit that it’s sometimes a struggle. Even more so when my hormones seem to work so determinedly against me.

Whatever health effects result from ridding my body of this poison will benefit me enormously, I’m sure. But I’ve already received a tremendous gift as a result of the process. In fact, I’ve experienced this more and more recently: When I am frustrated enough to verbalize as succinctly and clearly as I did about feeling poison spread from my gut, my intuition about my body and emotional healing is increasingly spot on. I described what I felt happening, and what I was feeling was validated. And has been validated more and more consistently in the past several months.

That tells me that I know myself. I know what’s good for me. I know what I need. And it feels wonderful to know I can trust myself more and more all the time.

waking from a magnificent dream

This morning, on the verge of sleep and wakefulness, I dreamt / saw this vision:

I was at the edge of the arctic, standing on what I thought was solid ground. I placed a stake in the ground, and suddenly realized that the apparent earth I’d been standing on was a floating chunk of ice, drifting out to sea — like the hungry, solitary polar bear you’ve seen in a documentary.

There was a moment of panic as I realized I would be lost, cold and alone, adrift on the frigid sea. And then, a mere breath later, as I found my balance on this gently rocking ice raft, I looked around and realized the sea was full of people like me: I was drifting into a community of free-floating individuals, none of whom looked cold, alone or afraid. In fact, they were smiling.

Another deep breath…and then I knew I didn’t need to be afraid, either. I felt welcome.

reconnecting with Chi-guy, part 1

About 9 months ago…

As I was planning a work trip itinerary to Chicago, I realized that I was entirely free until 10am one day. Normally my work trips were back-to-back, fully scheduled, non-stop action so, when I had an opening, I always tried to fill it with something just for me. I thought about the people I knew in Chicago and who I hadn’t connected with in a long time: Chi-guy.

I messaged him through Facebook to ask if he was free for coffee. He was, and we agreed to meet in my hotel lobby in the morning.

The day before I flew, intuition told me to look at his Facebook profile to see if there was something I might use for a conversation starter — after all, it had been months since we’d communicated in any form. Oddly, though I knew he was married, his relationship status was not listed. I scrolled through his friends. I had a vague recollection of what his wife’s name was and what she looked like, and I didn’t see her.

When Chi-guy bounded up the stairs toward me the next morning, we kicked off with a hug and the usual pleasantries. He had lost weight and looked better than I’d remembered. I was in a short, cap sleeve dress, just on the verge of inappropriate for business, and had been reading the Wall Street Journal. He was dressed casually, and I learned that he’d been through a layoff and was getting by on freelance projects.

Meanwhile, curiosity was killing me. I looked for an opening and then exclaimed, “Oh my gosh, your daughter must be…how old now?!”

He told me she was nearly five, and showed me a photo on his phone.

“She’s darling! Are you having more? It’s about time to get cracking!”

His expression became glum and I learned that he had moved out in March (the same month my ex had moved out), that his wife had asked for a divorce only days ago and that he was struggling with all of this. Knowing how painful the dissolution of one’s primary relationship is, I felt — and expressed — deep and genuine empathy. Yet (again) something in the back of my mind was jumping up ecstatically shouting “YES!” and it was all I could do to contain myself. What luck to find that a long-time mutual crush was becoming single! Imagine the potential!

But let’s not get ahead of ourselves…

Chi-guy accompanied me to my room and carried my luggage downstairs. He asked respectfully if he should leave before my colleagues showed up. I insisted he stay to meet Suzanne, “She has a place in your hometown — you have something in common.” Back at the front desk, I introduced them and they chatted while I checked out.

Chi-guy and I hugged good-bye, promised to keep in touch and I set about my day of work with Suzanne, who waited approximately .25 seconds before launching into, “So…tell me about this guy…I mean, he’s great looking, he bikes, no ring, he’s obviously smart and articulate, seems like a really nice guy…”

“…who lives in a different city from me, is going through a divorce and doesn’t have a steady job, despite his MBA,” I countered.

“Think about it,” she encouraged, “we’ll be back in a few months. Maybe that’ll be enough time for him to get over it. Did I mention he’s incredibly handsome?”

Suzanne loves my taste in men. Physically, at least. She thought my ex was gorgeous, too. I liked the validation that he had impressed her and that, this time, it was more than just his looks.

While we were cabbing from one appointment to the next, I posted a note on Chi-guy’s Facebook wall: “SOOO great to see you this morning! Keep in touch!”

He later texted, “You’re quick with the fb.”

“Just trying to keep the other girls guessing,” I flirted.

Later, as I was about to fly back home, I bid farewell to Suzanne and went to catch a train to the airport. Overhead announcements indicated my train was delayed. I text Chi-guy, “What does it mean that my train is delayed? 5 min? or am I going to miss my flight?”

He replied, “Usually 5 min, but if you miss your flight, call me. I’ll come pick you up.”

As I boarded my plane I texted back, “Bad news…caught my flight. Back to reality.”

“That is too bad. LMK next time you’re in town.”

But I knew I wouldn’t wait that long to be in touch with Chi-guy…

seeing Max again

Nearly 18 months ago…

When I got off the plane in Max’s region, I couldn’t wait to get to work. I mean, of course, that I couldn’t wait to see Max!

After a couple of meetings, we got a chance to talk.

“How do you do this?,” he asked, “I mean travel, as a single mother, with your children at home?”

That was quite an assumption for Max to make! He must have been scoping out my ring finger (I was no longer wearing my ring). After all, I had yet to tell my husband that our relationship was over nor asked him to move out. It hadn’t even dawned on me that my girlfriend in Max’s region might have spilled to him that I’d asked after him.

Later I had an opportunity to ask Max about his own children. That’s when he told me: two grown children, four stepdaughters and two grandchildren. Grandchildren?! I had guessed Max’s age at 44. He was older than I thought — and, having married a woman with four daughters, he clearly had a great deal of capacity.

I reveled at telling my girlfriends about this development . . . their consistent response: “Not only is he gorgeous, but also a saint! No wonder you like him!”

Exactly.

That evening, I had the pleasure of meeting Max’s wife. As predicted, she was a bottle blond. And she was an attractive mother of four, had crow’s-feet (or shall I say “laugh lines”?) and a warm, authentic presence accompanied by a boisterous laugh.

By the end of the evening, I was compelled to confide in her. “I have a huge work crush on your husband,” I admitted. “He has been such a joy to work with, communicative, cooperative, willing, steady and pleasant in every way. Not to mention, he’s hot.”

She laughed and leaned close to me. “Oh, that is so sweet — I can’t wait to tell him! He is every one of those things at home, too, consistent and steady and never raises his voice…” We laughed and chatted for a bit longer before good-byes. Then she insisted I come back to the area with my children on vacation and stay with them.

Um…maybe not a great idea!

Finally, as I hugged Max goodbye, I whispered into his ear, “I just told your wife that I have a huge crush on you…but I bet you already knew that.”

“I’m no fool,” he said. We smiled at one another and slowly released our embrace.

intuition, interrupted

About 18 months ago…

Let’s get back to the fun stuff!

As spring turned to summer, I had another opportunity to work with Max, my out-of-state office crush. We emailed and occasionally spoke on the phone to communicate. One day after I emailed off a request, I got this reply from Max:

“You should know by now I will do whatever you ask.”

I excitedly waved a co-worker into my cubicle and said, “look at this! I think this cute guy might be flirting with me!” She agreed that he was most definitely flirting. (Perhaps you’ll find it sad that I needed confirmation from another, but this was not the sort of thing that is always self-evident to someone whose primary relationship is spiraling toward Hades.)

And so things got interesting. A fairly attractive man (who was also a newly wed) was offering a little bit more positive attention than was strictly required by his job. Which was nice.

But there was something deeper and more profound going on: I had gotten a vibe around Max, something that made me think he might have some special potential in my life (at least until I heard he was getting married). And now I was getting some feedback suggesting that energy was mutual. My feminine intuition seemed to be functioning properly! After years of being told I was “crazy” every time I verbalized something I was feeling intuitively, I was now getting affirmation of what my sixth sense was telling me. My mojo — I guess they call it jojo for women — was coming back!

And I had an upcoming work trip to Max’s region, so I would see him soon!