The Bliss Blog

The Bliss Blog


Rocks Crumble

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Life can change in a heartbeat, quite literally. When I awoke on Thursday, June 12, 2014, I had no clue that a mere few hours later, I would be on a hospital gurney, with an IV in my arm and a tube up my vein to insert a stent into a collapsed artery in my heart. The day had begun quite normally. Light breakfast, a ‘normal’ gym workout with the intention to have  full schedule of therapy clients that would have taken me all the way to 7:30pm or so. That would be considered a ‘short day’, since there were some in which I wouldn’t cross my threshold until 9 pm or later. Imagine a pace like that for years at a time. Once home, I would be at the computer, writing articles, which is a true joy. Even so, my eyes wouldn’t close until close to midnight. Then there were times when they would flutter open a few hours later, as if I was being awakened by an insistent lover whose embrace I welcomed, but who didn’t quite get that this body needed rest and not just pleasure to sustain it.

When the actual event happened, I was in surrealistic shock, not quite believing it. It is an unfolding process, as I am finding.  Being a documentarian, I am called to write a lot about this, in spite of the feedback from two wonderful friends (both prolific writers) who have encouraged me to hold off and let this experience sink in, just for me. Hard to do, since writing is my medicine and I see this as a way to reach people with the vital message of self care.

Revelations coming through like (sodium free, cholesterol free, fat free….my new dietary guidelines:) popcorn. Went on an outing yesterday to run errands and then a wild night with my friend Ondreah Johnson who doubled as chauffer and private duty nurse, at Costco. Got all kinds of organic and GMO free goodies. It occurred to me in the face of my own health issues and now my friend Phil Garber who is in the hospital (he is my son’s Big Brother/go to guy), I have NO CONTROL over any of it. Imagine thinking that I did. I had a ‘conversation’ with my parents who are on the Other Side while meandering the aisles and leaning on the cart, feeling like I was way beyond my double nickels birthday. I said to my mother “I’m not you. I can’t do this.” She was everyone’s rock. I used to tell her “Rocks crumble.” She would also say that she could handle any crisis and then fall apart afterward. Funny, I never saw her fall apart. I suspect that she learned from my grandmother and I learned from her how to convince ourselves that we had to be available 24/7 for whatever need arose. She too had cardiac issues. I believe she died of broken heart from missing my dad who preceded her by 2 1/2 years.So the surrender piece. God/dess and I have been having confabs and I have been turning it all over and over and over. What else is there to do but that? I am trusting that all is well.


Previous Posts

Betwixt and Between
I had an interesting series of events over the past few days after writing a blog entry for The Huffington Post. It was called Why I Am Proud To Be A Total B*TCH!  As I was typing the words, I had a bit of trepidation come up and a sense of uh oh, should I be writing these words and validating wha

posted 10:57:39pm Sep. 30, 2014 | read full post »

Child's Play
I've been thinking a lot lately about my childhood experiences, almost in a life review format. Chalk it up to turning 56 in a few weeks. I grew up in a two parent household, with a younger sister born 2 1/2 years afterward,  so I had some time with them and with my grandmother as an 'only child'

posted 8:59:02am Sep. 28, 2014 | read full post »

Sleepiphany
This being a writer brings with it a penchant for word mash-ups and unique configurations. Many in my life share that talent. Yesterday while perusing Facebook, I noticed a term coined by a fellow wordsmith Shawn Allen. He was commenting on having taken a nap and then awakened with what he referred

posted 8:00:10am Sep. 26, 2014 | read full post »

Love Poems to God
Words come from a Divine Source, as far as I am concerned. since my writing (as if does for other wordsmiths) 'writes me'.  It flows through me and not from me. There are times when I have looked back at journal entries or articles I have penned over the years and think "Who wrote this?  I don't r

posted 11:18:21pm Sep. 25, 2014 | read full post »

Unremarkable
We all like to think of ourselves as extraordinary, exceptional, and  a slew of other superlatives. Is there anyone who wants to feel ordinary, as if they have not accomplished anything of note? Chances are, since you are reading this, you have indeed achieved a modicum of success. Likely you le

posted 12:02:42am Sep. 25, 2014 | read full post »




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