I am so tired of being sick this Spring. It seems as though I have been dealing with unhealthy demons since about 20 February. First my really bad upper respiratory deal that knocked me out for two to three weeks. Then, after just one week of feeling good I was plagued by a bad cold/allergies (I never did decide which it was). That dragged on for more than three weeks before I was hit by the gastric flu bug. I am so ready to be done with all this and be truly healthy for the rest of this year!!
What really annoys the heck out of me is that sickness robs me not just of health on all levels, but also of time. Oh I know I still live each minute that God gives me. I don’t lose effective time. What I lose is the time I would normally put in to all the various activities that make up the flesh of my life.
My garden lies in wait to be ministered to. Outdoor projects for which I had a planned scheduled have to go on hold. The weeds begin to sprout profusely in the flower beds, and just the pure unadulterated pleasure of being out there working in the dirt has to be postponed while viral bugs have their with my body.
My writing is forced on to a back burner. No matter which part of my body is physically under attack, the Muse withdraws and hides. My head seems full of fuzz and leaves no room for inspiration. My arms and hands are sluggish, ravaged by fevers or infections or plain old weakness, and consequently they have no strength to fly over the keyboard in creativity.
My craft room sits in silence full of its colorful cardstock and inks, ribbons and stamps, glitter and glue and various findings. But nothing there is able to penetrate the general sense of dis-ease that pervades my body, heart, mind and soul. Not even a fast-finished product can elevate me from the murky depths that sickness produces within me. The Muse avoids temptation!
And my wonderful husband patiently tends me, doing everything he can to alleviate the grayness that insidiously surrounds me. And even there I feel robbed because I have no energy, nor am I in any kind of mood, to actively participate in our relationship. And that is a loss in and of itself.
There is nothing I can do about this state of affairs. Bugs and viruses for the most part have to be given their time. I can only languish and try to be as positive as possible. I practice patience and humility in accepting the situation for what it is. But my inner child grows pouty, wants to go out and play, and longs for the company of Muse.
I have been very careful this week in my return to health. No rushing out and doing everything it once. This is difficult for me because I have a tendency to want to make up for lost time, to catch up. But one thing I have learned: time once past can never be “caught up”.
Today I have done a little in the garden: prepared and planted up three raised beds with spring onions, Web’s lettuce, and chard. In another small flower bed I sewed seeds that I hope will bring a small wild profusion of blooms later in the summer. I finished all that I had hoped to achieve before the rains came.
And now I sit in my lanai and listen to the thunder rolling in the distance. One particular roll sounded rather like a Harley and for a moment I was amused as I pictured God in black leather Chaps and a ponytail rumbling across the skies on a sleek chrome machine! And, joy oh joy, my Muse is back and here we go dancing across the keyboard in a game of catch-me-if-you-can.
For the trillionth time in the past few years I heard someone say, “Oh my God, time is just flying by”. And I mentally concurred as I noted the date on the calendar. It’s November 2009, almost Thanksgiving with Christmas knocking on the door. And, as usual, I found myself internally asking, “Where does the time go?”
Well, it goes by doesn’t it? I mean it doesn’t go for a walk, or to the movies, nor does it go to bed or on vacation!! It simply goes by, tick-tocking the seconds one by one. It never stops, nor does it go back on itself. It keeps on marching and no one can stop it or change it.
Sometimes when I think about the inexorable passing of time I get in a bit of a panic. I suspect that’s the very human part of me that recognizes underneath it all that with the passing of time my life span gets shorter by the second. However, there are other moments when I feel quite OK with the passage of time and I’m sure that’s when I’m more spiritually fit, when I’m more God-centered rather then me-centered.
I actually have a personal theory as to why time seems to be flying by. I’m very sure that the closer my soul feels to home, the more it seemingly accelerates time. It wants to get there, no delay!! I am of course speaking from a Christian perspective. I do believe in an after-life and I think that the closer I get to my transition date from this earth, then my soul is just in a hurry to get there.
Then I find myself thinking about heaven and what that might be like. When I was younger I used to imagine thousands of us, all glowing white and gold, surrounded by angels with long golden trumpets, just kind of bobbing around in this shiny nebulous place – rather like bobbers on a fishing line all massed together and smiling beatifically at each other.
Today my idea of heaven is greatly changed. Seeing as it’s my goal to get there I’ve given it quite a lot of thought. I’m very sure there will be activity rather than just sitting or standing around “bobbing” and beaming at the other souls. I really imagine some of it will allow me to sit on a seashore or a riverbank with Jesus and Buddha, Gandhi and Gibran, Richard Bach and Og Mandino, Marianne Williamson and Oriah Mountain Dreamer, Princess Di and Mother Teresa, Pope John Paul II and Wayne Dyer.
There will be time to talk with them, collectively and individually. Unlimited time to ask them questions and have long discussions with them. I am sure I will meet the spiritual beings that were my family members and friends and that we will be able to connect in ways that were impossible here on earth because of the lessons we were learning, or teaching, here.
Most importantly there will be love, complete and unconditional love which will be the true source of happiness and joy. Practicing compassion will be the norm. There will be a beauty that transcends any earthly concept of beauty. And there will be no pain and no hatred. Now that’s what I call heaven.