When I was younger, I never understood why she would lecture
me about not picking at the scabs on my knees or examine my face for anything
unusual. Health was a big concern for
her because she knew firsthand the devastating cost of not having good health.
However, my grandmother also carried with her another emotional
entanglement when it came to her health.
Because of the hardships her family endured, there wasn’t a lot of room
for love and affection to be expressed, but when someone got sick, they were nurtured
and cared for as an act of love. In many
ways, being sick became an unconscious form of emotional manipulation to receive
the love you otherwise wouldn’t get.
I look back on all of this and realize how these unconscious
belief systems and emotional patterns affected my relationship to my own
health. Whenever I got sick, I felt
conflicted. Getting sick meant plans
getting upended and a fuss being raised.
I hated being sick because it meant not only slowing myself down but
slowing down everyone around me.
In eighth grade I had an upper respiratory infection for two
weeks. My teacher, Sr. Martha, humiliated
me in front of the class when I returned to school and treated me like I was
lazy. After that, I adopted an
unconscious pattern of powering through when I wasn’t feeling well to
compensate for any sense of weakness.
Fast forward to November of last year when I met my
functional medicine doctor for the first time.
After spending over an hour with me discussing my entire life’s history,
she ordered a series of specific blood tests.
One revealed that I have celiac disease which has required me to develop
a new relationship to my health, including being hyper aware of the food I eat
and every symptom I experience. I’m
still learning to understand when a symptom is nothing and when it’s revealing
something important.
Adjusting to this whole new level
of self-care has also motivated me to face my shadow beliefs when it comes to
my health. It’s been uncomfortable having
to advocate for myself when I’ve always taken pride in being an easygoing and
not so “fussy” person. Now I’m learning
to be okay with speaking up and raising a fuss because my body is depending on
me.
This experience has also inspired me
to reflect on my ancestors’ relationship to health since celiac disease is
genetic. It’s clear that my uncle who
was also my godfather had celiac disease from birth and was never
diagnosed. He was born with eczema all
over his body, which can be a symptom of the disease, and was in a great deal
of pain most of his life. He was also a
highly sensitive person but tried hide it with his tough exterior. Celiac was yet to have an official place in
the medical books when he was born and I can’t help but wonder if it had, how
his life would have been different. I sometimes
wonder how many generations back this disease can be traced and how my
ancestors dealt with their symptoms.
Were they labeled as weak or overly sensitive?
Over the years I’ve had seemingly unrelated
and minor health issues. I know now my
body was trying to tell me something; but between medical doctors treating them
as “minor” and my pattern of powering through discomfort, the truth would
remain obscure. The chronic psoriasis on
my foot was treated with a steroid cream until I discovered natural tamanu
butter. One time I asked about having low
blood sugar and a doctor told me to just eat an apple. When I mentioned migraines to another doctor,
they tried to sell me Botox injections.
Then there was the chronic anemia that was chalked up to me “being a menstruating woman.” Had I not been in my shadow
pattern and instead listened to what my body was telling me, perhaps I would
have challenged my doctors more.
Nature is always reaching for a
state of balance and it is a natural impulse for humans to do the same. When one generation experiences an entanglement,
the next generation responds, consciously or unconsciously, to create
balance. Sometimes this will heal a pattern
and other times it creates more emotional entanglements that are passed on to
the next generation.
My grandmother would tell me many
times that having your health is everything.
When I think of my ancestors and the emotional patterns and belief
systems they adopted to find balance in their struggles, I can appreciate my
journey to health and happiness on a whole new level. I can almost hear them celebrating on the
other side because I am unraveling the entanglements they couldn’t.
With 2020’s ongoing chaos cycle, this
fall’s shadow season provides a richness to any inner soul work we decide to
explore within our own shadows. Health
and security are two major themes at play this year along with grief and
loss. As big shifts in the balance of
power within the collective are added to the mix, we have an opportunity for lasting
change and growth.
How can we listen to what our
bodies are telling us and what our souls are teaching us at this time?
Now is the time to receive these
answers from within and for each of us to take ownership of our ultimate truths.
