How to Begin November

I can't believe it is November already!! I have so much to share I don't know where to begin.
The end of September, my husband and I visited the mountains of Colorado.

This is one of my Soul places. When I am there surrounded by the mountains, the trees, the waterfalls, I feel like "me." In the cooler Autumn air, I breathe deeper. I am more comfortable in my skin. A peace that has eluded me the past several years, suddenly settles itself around my restless spirit.

I hiked. I laughed. I caught glimpses of what I want for my life.

Back in Florida. . .
Maybe in my next post a little bit about the Sea and what She has been telling me.
Right now I've got quite a little list of activities going!!
*Autumn SouLodge 
*Inner Glow Self Care (An online home retreat created by my dear friend Lis. It is wonderful!
*World Diabetes Day Postcard Exchange (November is Diabetes Awareness Month and you know how I love postcards!)
*NaNoWriMo (!) aka National Novel Writing Month. This will be my 2nd time diving into the craziness that is writing 50,000 words during the month of November. In 2010, I successfully made the word goal. It was exhausting, all consuming, and some days I considered abandoning the entire thing. But in the end it was totally worth it. So here I am again!! It just started yesterday, so it's not too late for YOU to join in!!

Essentially, we belong beautifully to nature. The body knows this belonging and desires it. It does not exile us either spiritually or emotionally. The human body is at home on the earth -John O' Donohue

Blue Moon Postcard

Dearest Readers,
I have been on an unplanned vacation. Soul work does not plan ahead, schedule days off, or choose a destination. It just decides, packs the tiniest of bags, and heads for the edges of Inanna's underworld. That is where I have been. . . hanging with my shadows, my fears, all that is unresolved. I have been tired, yet unable to sleep. Restless, yet too tired to really wander. I have erected a wall of sorts around my vulnerable places, and in so doing, have walled off my most wild and beautiful Self. Blood sugars have run high and tears shed far too often. Dreams go unremembered. My journals have quickly filled, but even these are like broken records. Words I never used to call up are written there: hopeless, lost, confused, why bother, failure. Still, bits of healing have made it through in the form of acupuncture, SouLodge, and perfectly timed snail mail from far away friends. My strong husband and my wise dog have handed me magic everyday regardless of my darkness.
Tomorrow is the second full moon of August - a Blue Moon. To honor Her bright beauty and draw upon this second chance, it seems appropriate to me to breathe some fresh life back into this space. It may only be small glimpses. My Muse muscle is a little out of shape.
As the moon goes full, know that I am wishing you much healing and magic in your life! That I have missed you, and that I hope to see you soon. . .
Wildest Blessings,
Angela

D-Blog Week: One Great Thing

It's Diabetes Blog Week! And I am a wee bit late to the party. (I'm hoping fashionably late). Since I missed Day 1 and really it's Day 3, I am going to start with the prompt for Day 2: Tell us about one diabetes thing you do spectacularly!

There are a few things I might lay claim to here. But after pondering it most of the day, I realized I knew exactly what finely honed skill I would honor: The ability to hear and respond to my body and all its myriad signals. It is what I do 24/7. When I was first diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes at age 12, my blood sugars were well over 800. My body was SCREAMING for help. Unquenchable thirst haunted me. Exhaustion derailed my usual tomboy ways. I had dark dark circles under my eyes. Even before the doctor appointment where they gave these symptoms a name, I knew in my bones something was wrong with me. Once I was in the hospital they began to administer insulin. For several days, a nurse would come in every couple of hours and ask me how I was feeling. Was I shaky? Did I feel my heart racing? Did my brain feel fuzzy, my mind easily confused? No, no, and no. I thought theses nurses were so annoying. They would even wake me up during the night with their stupid questions. But at some point, I was saying yes, yes, and yes. How did they know? The nurse said, "Angela, that is what a low blood sugar feels like!" They had cleverly taught me how to scan my body for the signs that I needed to drink some juice right away. I have never forgotten this lesson. It settled deep and began my life long path of tuning into my body every moment of every day.

Over the years, this kind of listening has evolved into something more than a survival mechanism. I have come to think of it as a kind of intuition. A devotion to my body. I am in continuous conversation with her. There are subtleties, nuances, secret messages contained in an aching hip, a shaky hand, a wild thirst. It is like ritual to turn inward and "hear" what my body has to say. Mountains, rivers, and rocks are echoed within this awareness, lending me strength, weaving their songs into those of a blood sugar of 50. The beat of a drum, the screech of a hawk, a coyote's howl become part of my recovery from neuropathy. 

By my mid 20's, I began to understand that this deep knowing could transform into a healing response. I sought out a Reiki teacher and learned how to use my hands to channel Qi and restore some balance after a stressful series of high sugars or the discomfort caused by gastroparesis. Often times, if I'm not quite sure what is going on in my body (even after checking my sugar levels) I will lay my hands over the area where I am feeling the worst and just allow Reiki energy to flow. I am amazed every time when an "answer" comes in those moments of quiet receiving. 

The body is a multilingual being. It speaks through its color and its temperature, the flush of recognition, the glow of love, the ash of pain, the heat of arousal, the coldness of nonconviction. It speaks through the constant tiny dance, sometimes swaying, sometimes a-jitter, sometimes trembling. It speaks through the leaping of the heart, the falling of the spirit, the pit at the center, and rising hope. (Clarissa Pinkola Estes, Women Who Run With the Wolves)

This ability to read and respond to what my body needs developed from survival. It has kept me alive again and again. It has brought me to an awareness of a beauty and power that reside within me, not in spite of, but because of my diabetes. How can I do anything but honor this gift, hold it as sacred?

[This post is part of the 3rd Annual D-Blog Week coordinated by Karen at Bitter-Sweet. Over 200 hundred people in the diabetes online community have signed up to blog about their life with diabetes. Be sure to check out the stories being shared each day. I am on a strange schedule this week which means I may be in and out of the daily prompts. Thank you so much for visiting my blog! Wildest Blessings.]

Pocket Medicine

                                                           






















The Peace Of Wild Things 
        by Wendell Berry


When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be, 
I go and lie down where the wood drake 
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds. 
I come into the peace of wild things 
who do not tax their lives with forethought 
of grief. I come into the presence of still water. 
And I feel above me the day-blind stars 
waiting with their light. For a time 
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free. 

[Happy Poem in Your Pocket Day! (To read the poem I chose last year, click here). For me, poetry IS medicine, and so placing a hand copied poem next to my insulin pump becomes a symbolic gesture of healing. I love the idea that the message Mr. Berry conveys here is working synergistically with my insulin to bring me to a place of peace and well-being. What poem did/would you choose for your pocket today?]

Where I Am

I am in the midst of a slow-dawning epiphany. In considering what I need to flourish, I am running up against a deeply embedded way of being. And I am not sure exactly how I will undo it. Or move differently in the world.

Let me see if I can connect the dots. I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes more than 29 years ago. From the very start, I was taught (as all diabetics are) to test my blood sugar levels through out the day. With these numbers, I am then able to determine proper insulin dosage, food intake, exercise time etc. Simultaneously, I was taught about what would happen if I did not keep my blood sugar levels at a normal level: failed organs, blindness, nerve damage. For a 12 year old girl, very much hooked into good grades and performance, I very quickly came to view those blood sugar numbers as "good" or " bad" and my choices as "right" or "wrong." Now allow almost three decades to pass. And you can imagine how self worth and value might get caught up in that whirlwind.

Deep breath.

For the last few years I have been struggling under the weight of something. I have had some of those dreaded complications arise. And all those numbers, all those choices (whether they had anything to do with diabetes or not) seem to say only one HUGE thing: Angela, you have failed.

I know this may seem simplistic. But this is how it feels at my very core.

I am exhausted from all the choosing, trying, fighting. I want it to be over. The bell to go off, my time in the ring to be done. Maybe a warm, kind voice to say: You did good, Kid. Congratulations. You are cured.

Or at least award me a grand do over. Where I make enough right choices to outweigh the bad.

I am sure you are aghast at my wallowing(I know I am). I don't even know why I am telling you this. Maybe because I am desperately trying to face some truth and find some healing. Maybe because I haven't entirely given up hope.

Speaking With Yemaya

Sister, if you are caught between the devil and the deep blues, let go of your present thought patterns. Release your grip on what you've been taught is reality, and invoke for a breakthrough. You won't regret it. (Luisah Teish, Jambalaya)

Memory and Medicine

There is something about Autumn that conjures memories. The wind brings them in I suppose, blowing like the richly colored leaves. I enjoy this kind of remembering as it helps me to link the past to my present, to see patterns and the arc of my own personal narrative. I am in a mind to share with you my very first memory. To do so means we travel back to when I was two years old. My parents were renting a house outside the small town of Plattsmouth, NE. Though they had to commute to the larger city of Omaha, they wanted to "live in the country." These things I do not remember, but often when my sisters and I were older, my parents would drive us past that house, tell us stories from the early years of their marriage. In a photo (now lost) from that time 40 years ago, I am sitting in the grass with a kitten on either side of me. The three of us intent on whatever game we are playing. My mother has told me when I was outdoors she had to keep an eye on me because I loved to wander off into the woods.

So it is here near the mouth of the Platte river that I trace my first memory. I am standing outside on a small porch. There is a screen door behind me. It is dusk, neither light nor dark. A coyote is howling. I stand there listening to this repeated howl. Mesmerized and a tiny bit frightened. I listen for awhile, then in a quick bustle of motion, I open the screen door and go inside. That is all that I remember, but that howl went deep because I have held onto that moment, that call from the countryside, for forty years.

In many tribal traditions, coyote symbolizes a powerful storyteller, a trickster of sorts. Magic and humor are often involved. S/he teaches that things aren't always as they seem. And that sometimes to really learn something, we must be tricked into doing so. Coyote is also a shining example of adapting to survive. While many wild animals have struggled to make it in our modern world, this canine has found ways around our invasive human presence and even extended its range.

from Daughters of the Moon Tarot by Ffiona Morgan

Though there are many aspects of my life where I find Coyote's energy at play, I am especially able to link her archetypal presence to diabetes. To thrive despite this illness, I must adapt. I must listen to my body in the moment and determine the best course of action. Some days, weeks, even years are more difficult. Survival is not always graceful or pretty. Sometimes it requires scrounging, high risk, and many failed attempts. Often it is lonely. And then you remember you can howl. You can call in another who's been there. Someone who has wisdom to share.

Several years ago, I began working on a series of poems about Coyote's presence in my life. This is one I wrote, inspired by this memory:
  
How It Begins

Coyote called me
Into being
Her howl
Cut across the Plains 
Sharing air with winged things, drifting
Down at dusk
Her howl 
Startled me from some other slumber
Rippled my spine, my skin  
Goosebumped
Two years old, I 
Inhaled my first memory
Like a birth breath
Coyote called me
Into being
I know because
Her howl 
I have spent my whole life
Answering

Coyote Woman Waits by Susan Seddon Boulet

[And it seem so very magical and fitting, that I am learning a great deal these days from a beautiful and wise Coyote Woman. The Autumn session of Pixie Campbell's SouLodge course begins on October 31st. She has created an inspired place to connect with your wisest soul self, other women, and the sacred Earth. Registration is open through Monday the 24th, and it would be lovely if you could join us!]

Diabetes Art Day

Happy September! Every year I try to give August a little more love, but I find I am still more than happy to usher it out like a house guest who's overstayed his welcome. I was excited to learn that the diabetes online community has designated September 1st as Diabetes Art Day. What better way to celebrate the flip of the calendar page than a day dedicated to healing through artistic/creative expression?! Art therapist Lee Ann Thill (a Type 1 diabetic herself) is the organizer and creator of this web based initiative. Her About page states that she "started Diabetes Art Day to encourage people with diabetes and their loved ones to utilize creative visual expression as a way of communicating their experience with diabetes, connecting with others, raising awareness, and promoting insight and positive coping skills." Awesome, huh?

I decided the best way for me to tap into diabetes so specifically for this project was to create using the art journaling and SoulCollage approach: move intuitively around the page, going with images, colors, and materials as they come to mind, without overthinking or correcting. Working in this way allows me to be totally present in the moment, focused on color or image, yet when I'm finished, I find I've tapped into something deeper and more profound. In pondering the page and what I chose in those moments, often an insight into a difficult issue will emerge. It can be a powerful healing tool.

And, all of this translates into something messy, gooey, kinda quirky, and totally me!

I created the background using acrylic paint, torn paper, gesso, and a top layer of my beloved Caran D'Ache. I dumped out my purse and gathered some of those ever handy used blood testing strips. From there, I dipped into what I call my SoulCollage box, where I keep images cut from magazines, old calendars, newspapers, etc. I found that I was most drawn to animals that have in some way either physically and/or symbolically helped me cope with diabetes.

Wolf speaks to me of the need for family and friends. He also symbolizes my instinctual self, that part of me that listens to my body and knows what is needed. Horse guides me past fear to freedom. She reminds me of the necessity of balance. Butterfly promises new beginnings. Something beautiful can emerge from the shadows. She offers hope.

Several years ago, my husband gave me a statue of the Asian goddess of compassion and healing Quan Yin. It seemed only appropriate to include her in an exploration of my relationship to illness. The Day of the Dead skull is an acknowledgment of my fears. I believe that in honoring them it becomes easier to let them go. The moon connects all of these symbols, illuminating the path before me.

And to make this collage complete, it seemed important to give myself wings.

Thank you, Lee Ann for your hard work in bringing this event to the world!! Many blessings to the diabetes online community and to all of those who live with incurable illness. Never give up hope!

Merging with the Light (My Diabetes Anniversary)

 August is an intense month for me, as it marks the anniversary of my diabetes diagnosis. I often find that when it rolls around, I want to withdraw from the world. This used to bother me. I found it unsettling and stressful.

 But now, after twenty-nine years with diabetes, I believe this withdrawal is part of a natural cycle. To examine where I am at in relation to illness, to healing, to my path in this world. It is a time to remember.

Last week in the Emerge course, we were prompted to explore what it means to "stand in your own light." To do this through mindfulness meditation and self -portraiture.

I found that holding myself in light -my diabetic, poetry-loving, wild woman self- meant that like the Japanese Goddess Amaterasu catching a glimpse of Her own brightness in the mirror, I could find my way out of the cave of withdrawal. After twenty-nine years of diabetes, and nearly forty-two trips around the sun, I could see myself as beautiful and whole. Not broken or unfixable, not even incurable.

Dream of the sun dreaming its worlds,
sing till the song throws out root, trunk,
branches, birds, stars. Sing until the dream
engenders the spring at which you may drink
and recognize yourself and recover. (Ocatvio Paz)

Welcoming August

It's been a crazy busy week! I haven't had time to settle into writing a full post, but I thought I should check in. . . My sister-in-law is here for a visit. She and I have made several road trips to check out college campuses in Central Texas. (And let me tell you, if Texas is on your list, SCHEDULE IT IN FEBRUARY! August during a drought and excessive heat makes the walking tour INTENSE)!

 University of Texas at Austin

Monday, the Emerge course began, and this morning was the first opportunity I've had to check out the content! Vivienne McMaster gave suggestions for a photo walk, so I am excited to do some wandering with that in mind.

SouLodge starts this coming Monday. I've been gathering some tools in anticipation: sage, sweetgrass, Osha Root(for Bear), Mugwort (for vision), tobacco, sacred stones, feathers, and a wide open Spirit. . . .

Hot on the heels of my last post, Owl led me out of the darkness with an invitation from the young woman next door to be her birth doula. I am both awed and nervous. Once we left Omaha, and after my hospitalization in Spring 2009, I have not actively pursued that role. I couldn't really tell you HOW this opportunity has come about. Just the wild workings of the Universe. If I may humbly ask, I would love for your goddess well wishes. She is due NEXT WEEK!

And, August marks the anniversary of my diabetes diagnosis. It's been 29 years.

Lots on my heart and mind to share with you in the coming weeks.

Following the Spiral Path

Days of Sweetness and Light

light unchecked

filtered through the trees

bees teach us to savor the sweetness of life

measuring my own

light mingling with insulin

Hints for Dreamers, Part One

 When we honor our dreams, we empower ourselves.
         - John Perkins, The World Is As You Dream It

Over the last several years, I have found it more difficult to remember my dreams. A few trickle through when I wake up in the morning, but it is not consistent. This has not always been the case. I have for many years, counted on my dreams for insight into my waking life. I believe that our dreams are a powerful, often untapped tool for helping to process and better cope with illness, loss, creativity, and life changing decisions. They carry archetypal messages for our personal growth and evolution. Often times, the information they carry can bring resolution to a problem we didn't think possible. Actively working with our dreams, we can see patterns and guidance that can help to restore trust in ourselves.

Since I've been missing this Wise voice, it seems important that I work on restoring it. I thought it would be fun to share some of my favorite ways for improving dream recall and utilizing their messages as a healing tool.

                                                    Hints for Improving Dream Recall

• Before going to sleep. tell yourself that you will remember your dreams. This is a simple and amazingly successful dream recall tool.
• Spend time in "meditation" before going to sleep. With all of the stimulus of our modern world, it is crucial to acknowledge the need for stillness. Quieting the mind and body are conducive to dreamwork.
• Keep a dream journal. Make sure it's within easy reach so that you can write your dreams down immediately upon waking. Even in the middle of the night! Do not count on being able to remember all the details later in the day. With each waking moment, you will recall less and less.
• Record the details in your journal even if they seem silly! Note how the dream made you "feel" (afraid, sad, helpless, powerful, happy, etc). It's also helpful to use present tense in your description of the dream. Include any first impressions you may have concerning the meaning.
• Be sure to date your entries. If you want to add an interesting way to see patterns in your dream life, note what phase the moon is in. If you are familiar with astrology, include the sign the moon was in at the time of your dream.
• For women who menstruate, it is helpful to record where you are in your cycle. Over time, this information should also provide some patterns in your dreams. For example, you may find certain animals make appearances right before you ovulate. Symbolic messengers of fertility could be in the form of rabbits, wolves and snakes. It can be an awing experience in the body-mind connection when you begin to see this kind of information coming through your dreams!
• If you are dealing with physical illness or pain in your waking life, be sure to pay attention to how your body feels when you wake up. Most of us with diabetes or hypoglycemia know that a nightmare can indicate low blood sugar. I ALWAYS test my blood sugar levels right away if I've had a nightmare! If possible keep track of these details in your journal as well.
• Title your dream. Note any outstanding objects, animals, people, places and words. Try to pinpoint a theme.
• Sometimes the relevance to what's happening in your waking life may be obvious, but if not, keep digging! Consult a dream dictionary or a symbols book. Remember though that this is an exercise in trusting your intuition, and the information in these books is a starting place, not an end point.
• Find a dream partner. Someone you can share your dreams with on a consistent basis. This will improve your dream memory and provide you with objective input. Often times, when telling the story of a dream aloud, we may inadvertently give clues to the meaning. A trusted listener will help capture those insights for us.
• Use your dreams as inspiration. Turn them into poems, songs, paintings, and collages. Whatever your creative outlet, it can be infused with your dream life!

Working with dreams is a passion of mine, which means I've compiled ALOT of information and experience on dream work over the years, so I will continue sharing in my next post. I may get a little more esoteric on you for that one! Happy dreaming!

D-Blog Week: Intense and Amazing!

Hello, World! I am back from an awesome vacation and ready to dive back into the beautiful blogosphere! Though Diabetes Blog Week officially ended on May 15th, I still feel the need to write a wrap up post about the experience of participating (at least until blogger went down and I left for vacation still unable to add any posts)!

The word that comes to mind is INTENSE! Devoting our voices, as a community of people connected by an incurable illness, to the sharing of our stories could be nothing less! Every night I found myself staying up until the wee hours of the morning reading posts from many different vantage points. All of them powerful and necessary to the understanding of life with diabetes. I felt overwhelmed by being so totally immersed in stories that echoed my own. Incredibly moved by how many of the biggest advocates for a cure are our loved ones without diabetes. Reminded of how much parents sacrifice to ensure their children's well - being (THANKS, MOM AND DAD). Humbled by those who have endured more. Longing to learn from those who have done better. Awed by the powerful ways which people find to cope: prayer, art, triathlons, humor, poetry, advocacy. And on and beautifully on!

As a new blogger, it encouraged me to share details of my own story I had never really voiced before to the wider world. Even close friends and family told me they had not known the extent of some of my struggles. Searching the last 30 years for specific moments (even if I didn't share them all yet) crucial to my diabetes life was both difficult and enlightening. Trying to connect the dots of my own life and process all the stories I'd read the night before meant some mornings I cried before I even got out of bed! And I wouldn't want it any other way, because, in my experience, I recognize this as a sign of deep and soul felt healing.

So I want to say a heart felt thank you to Karen for such a fabulous job coordinating everybody's voice. To all those who viewed my posts, your support is SO MUCH APPRECIATED. To my husband who never wavers in his devotion no matter how many bad days, I LOVE YOU. And, another resounding NAMASTE to the entire diabetes online community for sharing your sorrows, your laughter, your anger, and your recognition of the blessings. YOU ARE AMAZING!

The Pacific Ocean from Pt. Reyes Natl Seashore

D-Blog Week: Show and Tell Vlog

D-Blog Week:Show and Tell from Angela Lee on Vimeo.

Due to some issues with Vimeo, I was not able to access my vlog for Wednesday's post until just now! I chose to go with a Step Outside the Box Wildcard option for this 3rd entry. Hope you enjoyed it. I LOVE show and tell! Here's a quick run-down of the mentions:
Raw Food Detox Diet by Natalia Rose
Crazy Sexy Diet by Kris Carr
Connie's Dirty Footprints Studio
Memphis Raqs Bellydance

[This post is part of the 2nd Annual D-Blog Week coordinated by Karen at www.bittersweetdiabetes.com. Over 150 people in the diabetes online community have signed up to blog about their life with diabetes with a post each day this week. Be sure to check out their stories!]

D-Blog Week: Letter Writing Day

Dear Complications,
You've followed me around ever since the doctor let loose the thunderstorm that would become my life with Type 1 diabetes. Not long after the nurses taught me how to give myself a shot and "feel" a low blood sugar coming on, they started mumbling about what could happen if I didn't take care of myself: blindness, kidney failure, heart attack, amputated limbs. I vowed at age twelve not to become a statistic. I would be the perfect diabetic. Complications, I blame you, for why I struggled so much with my illness as a teenager. I would wake up in the middle of the night with a high blood sugar and think "I've failed." And I would wait for all of those terrible things to happen. Often times it felt like no matter how hard I tried -following the perfect diet, exercising, injecting insulin- the number on my glucometer would still be high and imperfect. I began to feel panicky and depressed. I started purposely letting my sugars run high because it felt easier than struggling, and I could lose weight like magic and at least deal with that aspect of being a teenage girl. Your shadow overwhelmed me. And I almost gave up. Luckily, the Muse herself arrived on the scene. She whispered, "Don't give up, Angela," and lit my path with poems.

I emerged from those years without you manifesting in concrete form. I let go of the eating disorder (which now they have a name for- diabulimia) and the only evidence of you was the subtle mark of depression. I kept testing my blood sugars and taking my insulin. I worked two jobs to pay for medical supplies and doctor's appointments. I researched vitamins, herbs and any other remedy that seemed to have credibility. All to fend you off, Complications. My sugars weren't perfect, my A1c was always at the edge of normal or a little bit high. After every round of blood work and urinalysis would come back normal, I would breathe a sigh of relief. Then I would have a bad day, and your shadow would darken my life. My mom would reassure me, pointing out test results and unchanged eyes, "Well, you must be doing something right." I filled notebooks with my doubts and fears.

In my mid-20's, it happened. You got a hold of some nerves in my stomach. Gastroparesis was a new word to me. I was furious when they told me. It wasn't on that list those nurses gave me in the early years. I ranted and raved, feeling that if I had just known about it, if somebody had brought it up, I could have avoided it somehow. A subtle move on your part. I turned some of that ranting and raving on myself. How could I not know about this complication of diabetes? I always prided myself on keeping well educated about my illness. I was crushed. Now my "perfect" record was ruined, and, worse, it felt like you had me in your scope.

In essence, I ran away from my life at that point. Trying, I think, to escape you. I left a marriage, a job, friends. I was so over it all. I spent three years punishing myself with a string of dangerous choices. I felt like a coward, a failure, a fool. You breathed hot down my neck. My dreams grew very sad and dark.

Some part of me held on to hope, to the Muse's whisper in my ear. I found myself alone, but healthy. I cried alot, read alot. Filled countless notebooks with my heartbreak. I learned to stare right back at you. I started yoga, went back to college, found a job with amazing health insurance. I sought out a therapist. I learned martial arts. I switched to an insulin pump. Your shadow lightened a bit. I met the love of my life.

I crossed the twenty years with no "major" complications mark. Then the twenty-five year mark. The gastroparesis dealt me some bad days. But I tried not to let you overshadow my life.

Twenty-six and 1/2 years after you started following me around, I woke up one morning and found my whole body, especially my legs, consumed with pain. I took tylenol, ibuprofen. Tried a heating pad, icy hot. Within a week I could not eat or sleep because of the pain. My blood sugars refused to drop below 400. My husband took me to the ER. When I left that hospital ten days later, I had lost 15 pounds, oozed opiates, and needed a walker. No one had even attempted a diagnosis. Within 24 hours, it was clear I needed more care than my husband alone could give. He put me on an airplane so I could be with family and familiar doctors. I spent four more days in a hospital, and was tentatively diagnosed with diabetic amyotrophy, a very rare form of nerve damage for a woman with Type 1 diabetes (less than .1%). The doctors started me on Neurontin and my recovery began. I was stunned and humbled by your seeming power. Again, you appeared in my life wearing a face I did not recognize. 

It has been two years since then, Complications. And strangely, I find you more benign than ever. I don't want to be afraid anymore. I want to live as magical a life as possible. I want to do something to make the world more beautiful. You, Complications, are ONLY a shadow, a cloud easily moved by the wind to reveal a sun and blue sky that are always there.

Free Free Free,
Angela

[This post is part of the 2nd annual D-Blog Week coordinated by Karen at www.bittersweetdiabetes.com. Over 150 people in the diabetes online community have signed up to blog about their life with diabetes each day this week. Be sure to check out their stories on this topic here!]

D-Blog Week: Admiring Our Differences

In a strong community, everybody's voice is important and necessary. Each story told carries a key for understanding our own illness a little better, for finding hope, for not just surviving, but thriving. When I woke up this morning, I thought about how all of us, no matter what "type" of diabetes we have, are still connected by our pancreas. And I thought about where in our body the pancreas is, about how our experiences literally stem from our center. So, just for a second place your hands over your belly button(yes you might feel a little silly)! First think about your own experience of diabetes. Think about your family, your support, your doctors, your choices, your way of coping. Then, think about someone else in this community. Their story will hold different details. They may go for a walk in the woods when the day is rough. They may write a poem, paint a picture, play basketball with their children. They may kneel and pray or stand and sing. They may choose a doctor who would drive you batty or an alternative therapy that you find just plain weird. They may keep their diabetic child on a strict regimen or they may let them more or less fend for themselves. They may cry or laugh or both. What is important, as your hands rest at the center of your body, is that the pancreas is a conduit for the diversity of our human experience. 

Sometimes it is easier to stop reading the post by someone with a different approach to life with diabetes. Easier to turn away and find one that is similar to our own. It is more comfortable. It takes alot of effort to step out of our comfort zones with our eyes and hearts open to another side of the story.

If you have ever taken a yoga class, you have probably heard the word Namaste. In India, it is not unique to yoga practice, but rather, it is used when greeting someone and usually accompanied by a slight bow with hands held in a prayer position in front of the heart. It translates as "the spirit within me respects and honors the spirit in you." Several years ago, I met an older man who said Namaste to everyone. I worked in a health food store at the time, and I could hear him saying it to each person he had a conversation with. It seemed like a practice that made sense in a yoga class, but out in public, was maybe a little bit much. Finally, I asked him why he did this. When he was younger, he had served in the UK equivalent of the Navy Seals. He knew about violence and force, about suffering. He said he lived his life with a certain hardness of character, unable to deal with people who saw the world differently than himself. After suffering several heart attacks, he decided to change his life. Part of that shift was to acknowledge that every single person he met had a unique story, often filled with pain.  Even if he did not understand their perspective, he could still consciously choose to respect their humanity by incorporating this simple practice.

And, so, ALL of you out there in the diabetes world, I would like to move my hands from my pancreas up to my heart, bow my head, and say to you, Namaste.

[This post is part of the 2nd annual D-Blog Week, coordinated by Karen at www.bittersweetdiabetes.com. Over 150 people in the diabetes online community have signed up to blog about their life with diabetes each day this week. Be sure to check out their stories on this topic here!]

My First Vlog: Diabetes on Roller Skates!

Diabetes on Roller Skates from Angela Lee on Vimeo.

I promise to reduce my use of "uhm" if I vlog again! The type of lens I am trying to describe is a no-line bifocal! Haha. . .
The link to Lis' original post on her Joy Warrior campaign can be found here. Below is the lovely handmade postcard I received from her inspiring me to explore the subject of joy:

The lovely article "How to Lead a Joyous Life" by Susan Weed can be found at Our Inner Lives.
And, I am excited to announce that I will be participating in Dblog Week! That means each day next week I will be posting in response to a set topic related to life with diabetes. This will be a fun way to share with you a little bit more about my experiences and perspective.

"Wild Geese" and Diabetes

After a long day (or week or month) of struggling to bring blood sugars into balance, when I am exhausted from playing pancreas and feeling inadequate to the task, when I cannot face the judgment of the numbers on my glucose monitor- I have found Mary Oliver's "Wild Geese" brings me back to a gentler awareness of my relationship to my body. Her simple and subtle brilliance asks me to remember my connection to the larger world, and, thus, move away from my own suffering. I experience a rare physical peace from reading this poem.

                                                            Wild Geese

                                                           by Mary Oliver

You do not have to be good.

You do not have to walk on your knees

for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.

You only have to let the soft animal of your body

    love what it loves.

Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.

Meanwhile the world goes on.

Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain

are moving across the landscapes,

over the prairies and the deep trees,

the mountains and the rivers.

Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,

are heading home again.

Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,

the world offers itself to your imagination,

calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting-

over and over announcing your place

in the family of things.

This Whole Time

you've been with me

since my feet first birth

my days of fast running, horse riding

since that day in burning hot August when the doctors

told me you had changed shape

diabetic

since the moonblood began

first kiss,caress

since the first time I let a man inside my walls

since I marked you with goddess images

since I let rain wash over and purposefully

called the elements into gentle contact

 

you've been with me

since the first circle of women

since heartbreak and sacrifice

since true love appeared

since I stood in the Ocean

since the Winged One wrestled us to the ground 

and Innana arranged a trip beneath the surface 

you spoke LOUD then with nerve pain

I re-emerged and again you

changed shape but did not leave

 

Since you are and have been always

She Who Is  

She of Ten Thousand Names

This whole time

My own body

.

Type 1 Sacred

Many years ago, I underlined this passage in Clarissa Estes' book Women Who Run with the Wolves:

But what if we were to imagine for a moment that the body informs the soul, helps it adapt to mundane life? Suppose the body is a God in its own right, a teacher, a mentor, a certified guide?

I have read those lines over and over. Written them in my journal. Turned them around and around in my mind wondering how, as a type 1 diabetic I would answer Ms. Estes' question. My first reaction is more like protest:  NO WAY can I think of my body as God/dess! My pancreas faltered long ago. My genes have some kind of weakness. My immune system is hyper vigilant. My thyroid has its own agenda. I'm damaged goods, baby! There is also the constant reminders of my far from perfect body. Every time I prick my finger and squeeze blood onto a test strip, I am faced with a number that tells me good or bad. And what about the complications of this incurable illness? That list was filed in some dark corner of my mind the day of my diagnosis, daring me to go any amount of time without glancing at it: kidney failure, heart failure, blindness, neuropathy, depression. Wrapping my head around the concept of my BODY being holy, goddess, sacred is needless to say difficult. More difficult than I thought.

BUT in a quiet space in between the negatives, I realize how profound this concept could be for me, for any of us living with chronic illness, pain, despair. How different might my body look if I examined her through this lens?

I would have to acknowledge that my body has some kind of wild wisdom. That She possesses a knowledge that runs deep in my cells, functioning sometimes beyond my logical comprehension. So often it feels like a tug of war. Surely I know better than my body with a sugar reading of 250 or hint of nerve pain! I want to yank her into submission. But DO I know better? She is simply asking me to take responsibility. Be mindful of what I consume. Understand the ripple effect of my choices.

Working in unison with my body then becomes the most sacred of acts. The dialogue we have is intimate and full of mystery.  She is asking me to be devoted. To hold Her in awe. To serve Her in ways most people reserve for something intangible and elusive. My pancreas, without the ability to produce insulin, is NOT elusive. My body handed me this task 28 years ago. To answer the call of the divine(my body) means I have learned to listen for subtle messages,to adapt in the moment, to intuit a solution outside the norm. To honor Her, I make offerings of insulin and glucose tablets. (And in the last year, green juice and lots of carrots!) I allow her days of rest if necessary. And if She asks me to, I will walk among trees or dance on the mountaintop.

Those of us with words like incurable, dire, or chronic attached to our lives have been given an "in" to that wise voice. We are privy to something sacred. The state of our bodies is holy writ. And not outside of ourselves. It is within our own blood, cells, synapses.

                                                      i found god in myself                 
                                                      & i loved her/ i loved her fiercely
                                                                                         -Ntozake Shange                                                                                
                                                               
Tell me, do you find it difficult to hold your body in awe?