The Lies We Don’t Have to Believe

For anyone navigating chronic illness and pain, you may already know that it’s a challenging road. As time passes without our life force being reclaimed, the hope of recovery can seem like a surreal dream - and our reality can feel like a path going nowhere. Imagining a life without being overshadowed by illness or pain can seem like writing a novel of fiction.

Our complex human world contains many wonderful things. Equally, it also has limitations due to our agreed-upon programming (think of a Matrix-type network). It can be filled with disbelief, dismissal, denial, messages of unworthiness, and a crippling sense of fear and scarcity. When we are born, we are filled with the ecstasy of being a manifestation of divine life force, yet as we encounter more experiences over the course of our lives, our state of ecstasy can be diminished as we begin to settle for the beliefs we were programmed with as a measure of what we deserve.

My helping spirits show me time and time again that we are deserving simply because we exist. We don’t even have to be embodied to have worth! Unfortunately, our human hierarchal belief that one is “more” or “less” worthy of something because of {fill in the blank} is just a flat out lie. Yes, humans have collectively created this matrix of beliefs, but we can choose free ourselves from them to dream up and feed another one based on our authentic truths.

I remember sitting in my wheelchair about 13 years ago. It was a cool wheelchair, as far as wheelchairs go. It was specially made for my body and the metal was fuschia! I had come to the healthy realization that it was a utilitarian tool to help me mobilize. But there was grief around it. One afternoon, I was in my bedroom, contemplating how if things kept progressing like they were, I would likely remain a burden to others for the rest of my life. That was a hard pill to swallow for someone who hadn’t even hit 40 yet. I wondered, Is this it? Am I looking at a permanent future in this wheelchair?

Yes, it’s possible, my thinking mind chattered. Look at your surroundings. I was sitting in my own specially-made wheelchair, after all. And around me, there was a bedside commode, a rollator walker, a cane (for “good” days), and in the bathroom was a shower chair and grippers.

My thinking mind recalled a physical therapist that I had worked with who remarked, “You truly are disabled.”

My thinking mind reminded me of a former shamanic teacher I trained with who, after I stated that I wanted to become a shamanic practitioner, said, “Remember, you ARE disabled.”

Those statements might have deterred me from the hope and drive that I needed to recover. Thankfully, I didn’t allow them to.

So, I asked myself again, Will I be in this wheelchair for the rest of my life?

I dropped into my body, my intuition and my heart. In unison, they all echoed, HELL no!

I sat with that. I noticed that the same inner passionate fire in response to those disempowering remarks also rebelled against the idea of settling for a permanent life in a wheelchair.

Ok, then… So, where do I go from here? I contemplated. Again, I looked around me. Everything around me could be interpreted as a permanent situation.

I had progressively descended into the great abyss of my illness over the past several years. Holding the belief in recovering my health seemed like lighting a tiny match in an engulfing, dark cave. Equally, there was this deep call within me to name this experience as temporary even though it didn’t feel that way. I realized I had nothing to lose - I was already at rock bottom. I decided in that moment that I needed to give my illness less power over the course of my life if I did not want to remain in a wheelchair. Calling my situation temporary meant my future was malleable, and I had choice. I may not have had a choice in being ill, but I had choice about my response to it. If you’re reading this, that means you do too. And if you’re not navigating the course of chronic illness and pain, you are navigating the challenges of life in an body. Personally, I use this lesson my illness taught me over and over in application to other challenges that have showed up on my path since.

I rolled up my sleeves and did some deep inner work, including griefwork for the life I had before, art therapy, somatic therapy, and journaling. I also began an anti-inflammatory diet. Over time, the visions of wellness consumed my thoughts. One might even say that I became obsessed with envisioning myself in the future completely recovered. And as I contined my training, I utilized advanced shamanic techniques to support envisioning myself living a recovered life. We often don’t fully use clear focus in our modern world and I believe is at the heart of this kind of alchemy.

If you have lost faith and cannot see your life without the shadow of illness and pain, acknowledge that. Allow all of your emotions to surface as you warmly accompany yourself through them, with curiosity and non-judgment, and perhaps with the right supports to help you. You may even need to do some griefwork around the life you had before your illness and pain, which is so important in letting go in order to make room for your new life

Then, ask for help. Whatever your beliefs are, call on a Higher Power, God, Goddess, your well and wise Ancestors, or any helping spirit or guide that feels like a trusted etheric source of support. Ask them to shine a light on you and your path. Ask them to show you something in this world that will give you the faith that your thinking mind needs that you’re going to be ok. And then open your eyes and look for these omens. Lastly, focus on what your life might look like or even feel like without the spirit of illness overshadowing it.

Your innate radiance lives and breathes within you even in your worst moments - and in this very moment. It is waiting for you to access it and hone it so that you can create a new way of being.