I’m having some health issues I’m not really talking about. Remember when I had that ulcer bleed that put me in the hospital? I learned a lot there. Well, the current issues are stomach-related. So praying to my stomach is a thing, lately.
When something almost kills you, makes sense to develop anxiety around that. I wish doctors had been able to understand why the ulcer happened. They never could figure it out. I had some clues myself, about why. Decades of heartburn with spicy foods–enchiladas, soyrizo, even mild Indian food. When I was in the hospital, my mom told me her dad had an ulcer. Wow, I had no idea.
Doctors have tests and some tools, and of course the power to write prescriptions. But I have a lifetime of experience with myself and tons of self-awareness and intelligence. I can think about it a lot longer than they can.
Lately I had a medication change, and it’s been a lot of work to adjust. I’m really hoping a few days of discomfort will pay off with better health. Giving my body time to adjust to a new medication, or adjust to going off a medication, can be horrible. Life-disrupting, scary, a huge deal!
jaguar
Praying to my stomach is a way to extend love to myself, express my intentions, and share with Ming also. I like bringing him into it.
My stomach was the part of my body I hated the most, for much of my life. Large panza, it sticks out unsubtley. I was embarrassed. People told me carrying weight around my middle is associated with health risks. People told me to starve myself, to make the tummy shrink away.
Sweet, hard-working organ that holds the fire of life, which I offer sacred food to–I’m sorry I was mad at you, for so many years. You are good, and I value you on your terms.
In the hospital, I wanted to hate my tummy more, for almost killing me. But it made a lot more sense to love it. It’s really not my tummy’s fault. I can blame stress, receiving violence, lack of education, poor medical system, the fat shaming I endured, medical trauma, then medical phobia. I can blame every doctor who never really listened to me, and who pushed me out the door. Or chemical agriculture, pollution, and all the cultural harm that disconnected me from my body for many years and from Mother Earth.
Last night I was anxious that my ulcer would bleed again, and my spirit would slip from my body all the way, this time. Last time, Jaguar came and helped me hack through the thick danger-jungle. What an ordeal that was! Thank you, Jaguar!
praying to my stomach
Last night I touched my tummy and asked Ming to also. Praying to my stomach is an activity the whole family can enjoy.
Dear tummy, Thank you for your hard work. Thank you for digesting foods for me, for so long, and giving me energy to do the work of Love. You are amazing.
Please be patient as we try a med change, and see if that could give us better health. I know it’s uncomfortable and difficult. But I hope we can adjust, and things will be much better long-term. Please be patient with this change, and know that we love you and will do anything for your well-being.
This is a hard time, but we’re paying a lot of attention to how you feel. We’re trying really hard to figure out what you need, so we can give it to you. Thank you for hanging in there, as we figure out better ways to care for you. We’ll always try to be kind to you and care for you. We love you.
love
I pray for my stomach, pray to my stomach, and just try to love it. Fear of death is a problem. Pain, discomfort, vulnerability, lethargy, managing risks, making health decisions based on too little info–all that’s stressful. But adding death-anxiety can be too destabilizing. Especially at night, when I’m out of spoons but supposed to go to sleep somehow. If only sleep was easy.
Do you talk to your body parts or pray to them? Maybe you grew up with a good relationship to your body and don’t have anything to heal. Maybe you don’t need to kindle the connection, or your body is easy for you to care for. It would be amazing, to live in a body easily and get needs met, medical and otherwise.
Yes, some people walk into a room and can expect the chairs will fit their ass, the temperature in the room will be ok, the light will be comfortable, and the sound will not be too loud. The ways they want to move, talk, and behave will be acceptable. I told Ming today, “The only time I’ve ever walked into a room and expected to have my needs met was when I was the only person in the room.” Being among people is compromise and hard work.
Love to your tummy and all of your sacred body’s wellness.
