VERTIGO – Epilogue

It’s still there.  But it’s down to a trace.  Thanks be to God!

I’ve hit another one of the blessed plateaus.  It’s so interesting how it heals; kind of like how it came on – suddenly.  The healing is not a gradual thing.  I wake up and I just feel better.  Like a lot better.  It’s happened about four times now.  I stay at the same level for a couple of months, then one morning, I wake up and it’s just better.  I’ve been on this journey now for almost on a year and this last plateau is glorious; wide and grassy and expansive.  I stand tall on a place of even-ness, where the dizziness is only a faint noise way in the background . . .

I’ve been to a lot of doctors.  I’ve done a lot of exercises.  I’ve read everything out there on vestibular disorders.  In my search for answers, I began to realize that none of the doctors, specialists, physical therapists, or even the good Dr. Kuluva, knows exactly what this is, what caused it, when, or even if it will go away.  But Dr. Kuluva is a neurologist.  He understands a lot about the brain and respects all its complexity and its mystery. 

He is helping me realize that even if the dizziness doesn’t go away entirely, I can suppress it, take the focus off of it, treat it as merely a nuisance.  He encourages me to focus on how well I am managing it.  “Look at all the things you can do!”, he exclaims.  “You go to rock and roll concerts and restaurants.  Your husband throws you a surprise birthday party with all of your friends.  You’re a young 55.  You have a good life.  You have a full life.  Even if it doesn’t go completely away, you are living with it and you are living well.  You’re in the game.”  Focus on that.

In the end, I’m realizing that what is really healing me is time, patience, acceptance and surrender.  Stephen Levine says that “the resistance to pain can actually be more painful than the pain itself.” 

So I keep asking for quietness of heart and poise of spirit.  I want a quieter mind, too.  I ask her to lift me out of the small, cramped place of detail.  Set me free in the vast spaciousness of life. 

And she’s hearing me.

I’m finding a different, more authentic way of being in my life. I’m discovering parts of myself I didn’t know I had.  I make meaning out of the hard stuff and I emerge stronger and wiser.  I’m learning how to stand my ground and be centered in myself.  I’m finding my balance.  Something deep is healing in me. 

I‘m shedding a lot of roles.  The vertigo released me; it literally took me out of a lot of obligation. The roles that weren’t authentic had to go.  They were too draining, even exhausting.  My motto these days, “It’s better to not grumble and not do it – than it is to grumble and do it.”

I am moving slower and more languorously through the world.  I am gloriously unhurried.  I am content with a simple day.  I love coming home to Rob in the evening.  I love eating dinner and watching our shows and cuddling with Pablo and Toby.  I'm getting myself back. But it's a deeper, more engaged, less restless self. 

I've slowed down inside, too.  I enjoy things even more.  I’m not as plagued by that anxious, relentless voice, “You’re missing out.  You should be doing something more interesting.”  I don’t have to push myself to do lots of cool things. I can just heal.  I can take a rest from desire.  I can just be.

I’m finding my internal rhythm. I shake the tambourine steadily amidst the craziness around me - -  shake, shake, bam . . . shake, shake, bam . . . shake, shake BAM.  I am consistent, steady, living through this holy season of healing.  Rob and I have committed to a whole year of healing; extending the Jubilee year; living in this restful time, deeply appreciating, deeply savoring, doing what I love to do and lots of it. 

Live restfully in me.  Slow down.  Move slower and sweeter through the world.  Be softer, receive my tenderness.  Give me a chance to show you my world.  I will show myself more and more if you will let me.  I am leading you to a deeper place.  – My Angel Girl

I’m thrilled to share with you that thanks to a healthy tax refund, Rob and I are going to Paris and Yosemite this summer; two of the most extraordinarily beautiful places on earth. And we’re going in July, almost one year to the date of the first vertigo attack. Isn’t that miraculous? Isn’t that awesome? Thanks be to God! 

I lost my balance.  I’m still recovering it.  But I am recovering.  These days I’m a mountaineer who has taken off her heavy backpack.  I am sorting through it and discarding all the stuff I no longer need to carry.  I’m in the process of re-packing, creating a lighter, more essential load.  I only want to carry what I really need; what is authentic to me.

Come to me all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens and I will give you rest.  Take my yoke upon you and learn from me for I am gentle and humble in heart and you will find rest for your souls.  For my yoke is easy and my burden is light. – Jesus