Leaves are beginning to fall from the trees, yellow rain blown on the wind. Walnuts thunk to the ground. The season is changing, and my season is changing, too. My body is healing! My walks are growing longer, with a bit more jogging mixed in. My mind is clearer and my eyes less bothered by the light of a screen. None of my symptoms have wholly disappeared, but every one of them—from the dizziness and tachycardia to the brain fog and fatigue—has diminished. I know that this could be a temporary gift, as fleeting as Fall. My symptoms may surge again soon. But then again—they may not.
If I could have foreseen this season of healing, I would have imagined that it would feel like Spring. New life! New possibility! Budding and blossoming and growth! The truth is, though, that this sudden gift of health feels more autumnal to me. I had made a wobbly peace with my body’s limitations. I had learned to draw in energy from the present moment—the light of the sun, the green of leaves, the softness of grass. I was taking things a day at a time.
Now, like a tree preparing for the season ahead, I am looking to my future. How soon should I return to the workforce? Should I finish my novel first? Complete a health coaching certification? Give my body more time to heal?
I am grateful for this autumnal in-between and the possibility it holds. I’m ready—well, mostly ready—to begin letting go and to bud anew. But it feels strange. No one hands us a calendar for chronic illness, revealing the start or end of symptoms, the surges or reprieves. There are no guarantees. It is hard to make peace with the present and with possibility all at the same time.
I hope, though, that this is also a season of healing for you—whether the changes are showy and obvious like autumn leaves or subtle and underground, confined to the roots. But if on occasion you find yourself thrown off balance by the change—even by the good changes—well, I see you. It’s natural to teeter as we explore new terrain. Thank you for being here and exploring with me.
What season are you in right now—body and soul? How do you balance presence with possibility?
It’s so healing to read your words! This is exactly how I feel in this moment. It’s weird to say there are parts on me that misses the long hours bedridden with no choices but to sit in the moment…after moment. Now I am healed and there’s so much to do! My mind is all over the place, wanting to do it all. Disability forced me to be still, take it slow, and have no expectations for what I could accomplish. Thank you for understanding this bittersweet feeling.
Love and best wishes to you Lisa. X