Ritual of gratitude

I found this quote in a box of chocolates while I enjoyed one with my tea a couple of days ago, and I felt it summed up my last week perfectly. In my immediate reality there were no big breakthroughs, no massive news, no colossal changes, no gigantic discoveries, no tremendous challenges - just an ordinary week, mostly doing the things that I do nearly every average week.

And yet, I know that when I choose to be aware, even the most ordinary day or week can become full to the brim of the most extraordinary moments. Moments of pure magic that will never repeat in the exact same way again.

Over the last 12 weeks I have been following a personal ritual that I feel has really helped me to capture those fleeting moments - I do it by making a daily gratitude list. In my special notebook I write down every day the things that I am most grateful for and that made each day special. The incredible thing that I noticed is that since I started my little ritual of reflecting on each day through the lens of gratitude, every day has become something that I am genuinely grateful for. No matter what happens, no matter how difficult or ... ordinary it might be. 

So here is what my ordinary week looked like through the lens of gratitude:
- On Monday I was so delighted with how warm our home was - Madrid winters aren't exactly fierce, but I felt so cozy and happy that we had a fireplace going. I also absolutely loved the way my husband held me while we went for a walk with our dog Pepe, so very very affectionately. 
- On Tuesday I was really enjoying how productive my work had become since turning off all annoying reminders from my inbox. I no longer get distracted every time a new message comes in and can check my e-mails when I have finished whatever other task I might be focusing on. I was also feeling very thankful for the thought that my mom is coming to visit us next month. 
- On Wednesday we sent off our annual programme reports at work and the relief of the deadline met made me very happy. It was also a day when I was wearing my contact lens and felt so amazed at how beautiful and detailed everything was around me. 
- On Thursday I woke up after a scary dream and instantly felt grateful for having a sister. I think everyone should have one! The walk with Pepe was particularly pleasant as it was very sunny and beautiful outside. It was also a rare day when my hair was not as tangled as it usually gets now that it's so long, and I loved that!
- On Friday after a super productive week (still thanks to my new routines with less disruptions), we had a really nice date with my husband and went to our favourite Mexican restaurant followed by finally watching the Hobbit film. Both - my date and the film - were simply mesmerizing and I couldn't take my eyes off of them! 
- On Saturday I stretched and did some yoga in the balcony, took a few extra minutes to enjoy my daily freshly squeezed vegetable and fruit juice, and then relaxed the rest of the day - all the things I felt grateful for at the end of it. 
- On Sunday we cleaned the house and I felt so overwhelmed with gratitude for what an amazing housemate my husband is! :) I finally bought a new pair of jeans that I have been wanting and that are comfortable enough to do yoga in. And to finish my week I had a hot bath with some tea and a funny book! 

Nothing big happened, but just thinking about all of these small pleasant moments again makes me smile and feel so thankful. There are times for big events, emotions, ideas and experiences, but last week for me was a perfect reminder to enjoy gentle ordinariness when it comes. Let's all do that more often!  

Churros con chocolate

"Disease could be a fortunate experience because it changes the course of your life from a direction that no longer serves your highest good, to one that does. Disease may, indeed, be one of the most efficient healing responses the body has in order to return or advance us to a life of passion, excitement and tremendous vitality."

Andreas Moritz "Magical Healing – Just A Breath Away"

Last night woke up at 4am with a headache. After a few flips and turns, attempting to fall asleep, it became obvious that it was going to need my full awareness and attention, so I proceeded out of the bed, into a bathrobe and to the kitchen to have some warm water with lemon.

The physical reason for the headache was instantly obvious - churros con concolate (deep-fried Spanish doughnuts with gloopy chocolate dip) that I had indulged in the day before. Well, that and probably some of that sugar and butter explosion cake that arrived in the post from my dad earlier during the week. While I would love to be able to say it's not that big of a deal to enjoy a gluten-full, white flour, deep-fried, processed-sugar-filled "treat", it kind of is a big deal for me and for my body because it happens so infrequently. It is a rare exception in my usual mostly vegetarian diet free from gluten, processed sugars, dairy, alcohol and coffee, but full of freshly squeezed juices and organic rawness that makes me unbelievably happy. Exceptions usually happen when I am travelling and am not at home or on other very rare occasions. It is my choice not because of any particular moral reasons about what is right and wrong or how animals should live to see their grandchildren, but simply because it works for my body and allows me to feel healthy and full of energy.

It was not always like that. I was reminiscing last week about my sugar addiction that was still part of my life a couple of years ago. It wasn't necessarily that I had big quantities of sweets or chocolates each time, but rather that it was so diligently constant. I would have to have a dessert with every meal and sometimes even as part of the meal (like a sandwich with Starbucks caramel macchiato), and then I would just as diligently have sugar-crashes. For years, to my big surprise, none of my employers realised that every working day for about an hour and a half from 3pm, they were paying me just to keep my eyes open. I was not able to keep my concentration and could barely stay awake until "fixing the situation" by a helping to somebody's birthday cake in the office or my own stash of emergency sugar supplies. I used to pride myself in being the one everyone in the office went to when their sugar levels were down.

And then it all changed 2 years ago on a chilly Saturday in March when I met with a holistic nutritionist. It was a week after an annual work appointment at a clinic in London that specialises in overseas workers and exotic diseases. My blood test picked up all the signs and symptoms of hypothyroidism. Again. Just like it had a year before that. Except that this time, things had gotten out of the warning range and into 'this will really not get better on its own and you need to start the drug treatment immediately' zone. It was explained to me that it wasn't a big deal at all, nothing that a synthetic hormone levothyroxine would not fix. What was not explained to me was that this was scarily common (I later discovered how many of my close acquaintances had the same problem) and that the drug creates decades-long issues of never quite getting the dosage right as well as that normal thyroid function without drugs ceases to be an option. 

Thankfully, I just knew that I knew that I knew this was not a solution for me, that all else would have to fail for me to opt for that option. I was really inspired by my sister who had made drastic changes a few months earlier and chose what was working for her which was super-healing Gerson's diet. So the next day after I received the diagnosis I made an appointment to see a holistic nutritionist. Before coming to see her I had to track my diet for a week and fill out the biggest questionnaire I'd ever filled out about my body and health. Was I breastfed? Only for a few weeks until my mom had a mastitis. Was I vaccinated? Yes, in childhood and then more recently a full round of "exotic" vaccines were done for my overseas job. Was I using plastic kettle for making tea? That was our brand new kettle at work. Was I eating organic or conventional products? While a lot of what I ate was organic, it was not everything. Did I have mercury fillings? I did, four. And my favourite question - How far are you willing to change your current lifestyle and diet to change where you are at? To which I replied - whatever change it takes.

When my nutritionist and I met on that chilly Saturday afternoon, it was like comparing notes with a research buddy, we both had read and explored the links between thyroid, vaccines, immune system, and diet. The link between thyroid and gluten-allergy was particularly interesting, and after going through my previous week's diet diary with a highlighter and marking all the gluten-full choices, a potential solution to the problem lit up. We made an extreme plan that was to start on the same day. Freshly squeezed organic mostly vegetable and green juices in the morning. Fully organic diet. Avoiding all foods that were fried, salted, with processed-sugar, with gluten, with artificial preservatives or additives, with ingredients that I could not understand, alcohol, coffee, things that came in cans and tins (including sodas), and limiting the intake of natural sugars (like having 1 dried date a day sort of thing!). We also had to address the fact that I was completely vitamin D and iodine deficient. And just to top it all up - regular exercise and weekly coffee enemas. And then we would see what happens.

What happened was that the first three weeks that followed were horrendous, ghastly, disgusting and disastrous. At the time we were only dating with my husband, and the fact that he didn't just pack his stuff away during that time is the reason why we are now married. All of it was annoying - carrying a collection of boxes of snacks everywhere I went or alternatively panicking that I would starve; going to a standard food shopping centre and realising that 99.99% of its contents were not for me. Going out for food stopped being an option. But nothing, I said NOTHING, compares to what sugar withdrawal symptoms felt like. I turned into the most irritable short-tempered snappy PMS dragon that wanted to chew off the heads of everyone who even so much as mentioned they had a birthday (let alone bringing a cake to the office). Not having a dessert at the end of the meal made me panic - after eating a full meal, I would feel cheated and still hungry. 

When all of it started to subside at the end of the first month I noticed changes - I had more energy during the day and wasn't having to fight afternoon crashes. I started tasting things for the first time - you know the fact, that there are more flavours than sweet, salty and deep-fried. My head felt clearer and my emotions more balanced. But that was not the happy ending just yet. Triggered by all these changes, the following month my body began a detox campaign - there literally was not a day when I was not burping, feeling bloated, with a headache, with spots, experiencing heartburn, itchiness, you name it. It's a confusing process called healing crisis, or the darkest part of the night before the dawn sort of thing, where everything seems to get really bad just before it gets better as your body realises it's being flooded with goodness and decides to let go of all that no longer serves it.

In addition to diet and physical lifestyle changes, I found lots of fascinating metaphysical ideas about what thyroid imbalances and throat issues mean. It is associated with the blockages in the fifth emotional centre and neck chakra, and usually comes with feelings of humiliation and suppressed communication or self-expression, the sense of being interrupted and that it is never your turn. 

And then the magic started to happen. Each time I had blood tests done there were changes that would surprise my GP. Each time she would say she was impressed with me being so disciplined and sadly add that the conveyor approach of the medical system meant she had no time to do a real case study with me about how changes in thyroid health were possible without drugs. 

Now all of it seems like an inspiring story that happened to me a long time ago. I learned a lot from it about my body and my mind. More than ever before I became convinced that our bodies make no mistakes and all symptoms, if we are really willing to listen, come with messages about us being out of alignment with our higher self, whether on the action or thought level. I learned about the magic power of our bodies and that it is not the doctors or the drugs that heal (although both can be necessary in specific cases), but our bodies heal themselves when the right balance is allowed and circumstances necessary for healing are restored.  I also learned that the doctor absolutely does not know best. In fact, it became obvious how little the doctors knew - and seemed to want to know - about me. During the appointments I was never even asked if I was sleeping, what I was eating, whether I was stressed at work or in my personal life. This brought a strong sense of responsibility and self-love towards my body, and made me feel empowered and confident that I was much more in control of healing than I had ever imagined.

I have been wanting to write down my healing story for a while and thanks to the headache induced by churros - here it is! Obviously, now that its purpose has been served, my headache is no more. The end! 

On compassion

So last week was the first week back at work after what I think was my most relaxing holidays in the last 10 years. And it was tough! It just all felt like so much more effort than spending the day in our sun-lit balcony drinking smoothies and reading my book. As much as I like my job, I found it quite difficult to go from full relaxation to 8 hours in front of the computer screen and dealing with everyone's ambitions to tackle things early in the year. By the time Friday came, I felt like I could not find a comfortable position on my chair without feeling tension or aches somewhere in the region between my forehead and my lower back. 

I realise that there are physical factors behind this - being tense and upright for hours is more physically demanding than lying on the couch in the balcony, but you will know by now that my interest in physical causes of things is rather limited unless it actually leads to deeper layers of understanding. What I am really  interested in is finding out why I am a match to those circumstances or factors. In other words, what internal thought and emotion patterns are creating a frequency that allows for that particular factor to become present in my life. 

So on Saturday morning when I had 45 minutes before my natural vision education class, I sat down in a café with some freshly squeezed orange juice and a notebook in front if me. It felt like a good time to get down to it and allow myself some space for free-style writing - you know, just writing down anything and everything that comes to mind after posing a particular question.

In this instance, my question was about the lower back pain. Although it wasn't anything that a session with my chiropractor wouldn't fix, I felt discomfort and tension and I wanted to know what the pain was trying to reveal to me.

Louise Hay, whose work I admire and quote often, talks about lower back pain as being related to fear of money and financial concerns. Immediately, I could see where this fit within my week. First of all, I work as a finance consultant for a big programme that is not going to meet its financial targets this year, and it was last week in particular that I had to have conversations about it with my colleagues and our programme funders. So although it wasn't my finances that I was concerned about per se, I did spent a good portion of the week pondering what our end-of-year reports will look like. 

Secondly, taxes! Yes, I am officially due to make my first tax payment in Spain at the end of this month. Before diving into the Spanish self-employment legal matters online, I literally spend about an hour just moving different documents around (mostly just enjoying touching paper) and occasionally writing some positive affirmations addressed to all the superpowers of this Universe like 'Thank you for easy and understandable tax process!'. That didn't really work out so well. After about 2 hours of clicking on various links and looking at multiple confusing spreadsheets that were supposed to make the process simpler, I reached a conclusion which felt like an immediate relief to make an appointment with a tax consulting firm. Although finance is what I do for living, trying to understand the legal requirements for self-employed in Spanish just felt horrible and completely not how I wanted to spend the next 3 weeks of this month. 

And then there were all sorts of other things, like trying to decide in which country it made more financial sense to buy this mega-amazing blender that we want, as well as whether it was worth my time to pursue a tax refund due from the UK (money vs. the cost of my time and calls and peace disrupted by having to deal with another bureaucracy!). After listing all of this, I finished my orange juice content that I had really got to the bottom of things - it all made sense and I just had to wait and see how this back pain would dissolve in an instant. 

I was not prepared to what happened two hours later. We were having a break during our course when I decided to approach one of our teachers and share with her about the difficult week I had had with tension in my back and my eyes as well as the low motivation that I was feeling about my progress with it all. I don't know whether it was the way she looked at me or the way she gently touched my hand but next thing I knew was that I was having tears flooding my eyes and running down my cheeks. There was just this incredible compassion coming from her entire stature and from her soothing words. At the end of our conversation she gave me the biggest hug, and I was left feeling so moved but yet comforted to continue with the rest of my day in much higher spirits. 

And then just when I thought that I had pealed the last layer of the 'onion of day', I called my husband - and it happened again! I was telling him about my emotional morning and how tiring I had found the week and how frustrating it was at times to study about how to help others with their vision and yet still feel like I had such a long road ahead for my own eyesight. And there it was AGAIN - the most soothing and comforting words from my husband - reminding me about the challenges I had had in the past that are now my success stories, about how far I'd come and how he was there for me no matter what. And then more tears from me, yet again feeling so touched by such compassionate and emphatic conversation with another being who was so genuinely wishing all things most amazing in all discovered and yet to be discovered galaxies.

It was then that it hit me how incredible it was to have these people in my life who are so lovingly concerned about my well-being and who so beautifully reflected their (my?) love back to me. And the very best part about it all was becoming fully aware in that moment that I have an amazing support system in my life and that beyond the shadow of the doubt, the Universe really and truly has my back. 

(P.S. As I write this, my back feels happily relaxed and pain-free!) 

Doing things right

"And what would you do," the Master said unto the multitude, "if God spoke directly to your face and said, 'I COMMAND THAT YOU BE HAPPY IN THE WORLD, AS LONG AS YOU LIVE.' What would you do then?"

Richard Bach "Illusions" 

I have had a lot of time to think and to rest from thinking in the last two weeks. As the first week came to its conclusion on Christmas day I realised that I could not really come up with anything to write about that was in any way 'difficult to love', I simply had had seven incredibly easy days of ending work before Christmas holidays and welcoming my sister and her husband to spend a week with us. I kept trying to think of topics but nothing really seemed to be 'it'. I even thought about writing a particularly cheerful festive blog entry just to remind myself that 'loving what is' includes enjoying and acknowledging when all is particularly easy and simple - we don't need to always keep looking for underlying onion layers to everything. And then I decided to skip writing for a week. It was meant to be a restful Christmas week after all, and that could include resting from all of it, if I so chose.

Interestingly enough, it turned out that the concept of resting from whatever I want whenever I want is not something that comes easily to me. That in itself awoke a very familiar mild hum of 'well, if this is meant to be a weekly blog entry then I should really do things properly and not skip weeks every time I feel like it'. It was fascinating to observe this thought softly present in the back of my mind in the middle of a truly relaxing vacation period when the only things on the to do list were picking what film we will all watch together in the evening or which board game we will play. 

And then one morning instead of continuing to ignore it I paused to feel it out. When did I start feeling that there was a right and a wrong way to do things? When did some things become more mandatory than others? When was the first time in my life when I had to do something as if it was a divine order no matter how I felt about doing it?

The beauty of this type of introspective method is that the only effort required is to be still and allow the answer to rise up to the surface. In an instant, I was transported back to the early memories of preparation for my baptism and later holy communion with my paternal grandmother. Growing up in a country that was part of the Soviet Union meant that babies were not necessarily rushed to their baptism right after their birth (therefore, I actually remember being baptised), and people who attended church on a Sunday did not really brag about it. Such things, if done at all, were done quietly and as if underground. 

Having to learning the catechism is actually my earliest memory of having a duty, and having to do it right. I had a natural drive as a child to learn to read and found in books fascinating new worlds that would keep me lost in them until falling asleep. Catechism was the first boring book that I can remember. Naturally curious, I am sure I had approached it in the same way as all books at the start, but found its tone stern and could sense that there was only a degree and a type of questioning that would meet my grandmother's and the priest's approval. It was serious and it had to be learned rather than understood. With my early induction to the world of Catholicism also came the duty of nightly prayers. It was somehow instilled in me that this confusing three-sided serious God who could see and hear everything was expecting nothing less from me than perfection when it came to reciting the prayers (and of course every single one from the ever-growing list). This expectation was there especially on the days when, perhaps, I had slipped up from the long list of things to do and not to do. I suspect that I have a slightly addictive obsessive personality, but it is difficult to tell now how much of it is a natural tendency and what part of it got activated and shaped by my environment. I do, however, remember myself at a fairly young age desperately trying not to fall asleep before I had recited all the prayers. It was not a simple task, as forgetting where I was at or getting distracted required starting all over again no matter how sleepy or exhausted I was. I had learned in the catechism that there was right and wrong ways for everything, so of course this had to apply to saying the prayers as well. 

Writing about this is not meant to diminish the incredibly positive formative role that my grandparents played in my early life. It is only that returning back to that memory made me realise that this is where a restless sense of duty - of having to do things whether you feel like it or not - stems from in my life. This was the beginning of an idea that there are, supposedly, things that one must do no matter what, and that the greater the inner resistance is overcome in completing them, the greater is the reward at the end (in some cases it's even an eternity - i.e. a very very very long time - in heaven). In other words, we must rely on a promise of a future joy for not following it in the present moment. This is also where associated guilt started for when I didn't get things done or didn't get them done right. In some cases redemption could come from repeating the task until perfection was achieved (something that started with nightly prayers and later rippled into other areas of my life like handwriting classes where I would spend time rewriting and replacing entire pages in my notebook instead of revealing to anyone that I had made a mistake). In other cases, when I could not redeem myself, it became a matter of someone else granting it to me - a God through a priest through a confession - but only after feeling humiliated and guilty. 

As an adult, I now prefer a view of an ever-expanding and learning Universe that shapes and molds itself into realities we each attract and create with our thoughts. And I believe that instead of obligations to do things no matter what, we only have one - to be true to ourselves and follow our joy in ever single moment. It was a fascinating discovery for me that some of my childhood beliefs were still so deeply ingrained that I was not even aware of them. 

The night when I fell asleep thinking about how I will finish this blog entry I was awakened by a dream in which I was hiding from and fighting with various predators - crocodiles and snakes and tigers. There was a particular struggle with one of the tigers from which I was trying to defend myself by forcing an onion into his throat, and a point came so tiring and overwhelming that somehow in my dream I screamed out for my mom to help. When she appeared in my dream, the tiger had turned into a tiny rat with a small piece of cheese in its mouth. I think the dream was telling me that no matter the size and shape of what we are confronting, it loses its power when faced with loving presence. I therefore went back to my memories to spend some loving time with the little girl, tired and overwhelmed with confusing and fearful thoughts about doing things right. In my newly created memory she can fall asleep in the evenings whenever she wants while reading any book that brings her the most joy.