Death be not Proud

I am blown away and so grateful for all the support that you have been sending our way..amazing friends stepping up and taking over big Jungshin tasks for me and teaching and really just being there as friends. After I am through what feels like a fight that never stops (and I used to fight competitively so I know after a 3-minute round the body is already taxed),  I am looking forward to being able to relate the experience of body alive, body dead, mind dead, spirit alive experience I have been watching through the veil of this illusion called life. I’m sure that makes little sense which is why I am not ready, yet. The best healing today after visiting mom was laughing with my son who thought my hair made me look like a bird. He shows his affection by throwing his heavy head (I did not think heads could be so heavy!  It must be 60 lbs!) against my arm repeatedly. Strange form of teenage animal affection. Each time my mind says, “Get on with it Annika, stop having a pity party…blah blah blah..”, I then do a body scan and realize that my body has taken a big big toll and that it literally feels like someone picked it up, slammed it on the hard concrete over and over and then started kicking it. For those of us unable to leave our bodies and thus, embodied and righteously grounded (as I often talk about in Jungshin),  loss is certainly registered in the cellular tissue, running its way up and down the blood veins while the black and blue responses to being completely out of control (I tried to fight death and I lost), feel to me like dis-ease. I am searching my health inventory, ..” is my gut infected? Do I have a cold?” Etc. Etc. Nothing registers. My body has caught the virus disguised as death. The virus itself is fighting to heal the body and heart, Ha! Another organ and muscle I often discuss in Jungshin..how can this big red muscle/organ hurt so much? How is that possible for an organ to register that type of pain? Of course, I know from my work with Byron Katie, all stress and pain come from a thought but here it is, my own lesson’s kicking me in the head with the strength of unforgiving humility: I am not evolved enough, yet, to question my mind because an organ isn’t ready.  Hard to admit I cannot take my own medicine yet. It must all be about the way of the SWORD and I’m sure this is what Elephant’s Cry.

Death, be not Proud:

Death be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for, thou art not soe,
For, those, whom thou thinks, thou dost overthrow,
Die not, Poore death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be,
Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee doe goe,
Rest of their bones, and souls deliveries.
Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poyson, ware, and sickness dwell,
And poppies, or charms can make us sleep as well,
And better then thy stroke; why swells thou then?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.

(John Donne)

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